Chapter Chapter Twenty: A Funny Thing Happened During the Search

His eyes opened and immediately he felt pain. Cold steel clamps had been fixed to the back of his head and neck. He was in the fetal position, on the floor and bound to it with what appeared to be a high-grade rubber cable. The air was thick with a heavy smoke that, upon further inspection, turned out to be steam. He could feel the moisture of it against his skin. Only his hands, feet and face were exposed; the rest of his body was in a rubber suit, much like the kind worn by the other three men in the room. They did not have guns or knives, they held tightly on to wooden bats.

“Good morning, Dr. McEmbree,” a young, soft voice called out as he heard heavy doors grinding against the floor. The footfalls betrayed the man was also wearing a rubber suit, though he could not see him; he could not see anything.

“What have you done to my eyes?” he asked.

“What? Oh, I’m afraid that was a bit of overkill on the technician’s part.” The young man approached, hit a few switches on the neck-lodged equipment and almost instantly his vision returned. “There, is that better?”

“Much better. Thank you.”

“Glad to be of help, Doctor,” the young man said as he stepped back. A chair was provided for him. These people had done their homework. It was an old school, thick, hard wooden chair and the metal footings had been removed, replaced with hard rubber ones. “Do you prefer being called by your alias?”

“You may call me Solomon,” he answered, able to roll over and face his ‘new friend’. Black hair, well-groomed, blue eyes… obviously a man who took care of himself, judging from the condition of his body. He wondered if anyone had taken the time to read his file. This was obviously an attempt to force the creation of a bond. He wakes up blind and a new person walks into the room, delivering him from darkness. It was pathetic!

“

,” Solomon thought. “

.”

He chuckled as he looked around the room. “Where am I?”

“A holding facility,” the young man answered.

“And are you my new best friend?” he asked sarcastically.

“I am your only friend,” the man replied. “Your former employer destroyed your lab and intercepted your shipment. She also destroyed whatever that thing you were building was.”

“No!” Solomon screamed and pretty soon the false scream became genuine as the machines stimulated the pain centers of the brain. For a moment, his vision blurred and everything became a shade of blue.

“Well, I think we’ve explored the limits of your ability. Thank you for taking that upon yourself. It was something I was not looking forward to showing you.”

“What have you done to me?” Solomon asked between his deep and rapid breaths.

“We corralled you, sir,” the man replied. “And you should know up front that I do not represent Samantha Vey or any branch of Optimum Horizons.”

“As far as you know, you mean,” Solomon fired back quickly. “Vey was born with the ability to read people like you read the morning paper. She knows how to flip to the weather section and find out just what would make your rainiest day.”

“My goodness, Mr. Seaver,” the man said as he crossed his legs and opened a file. “You make her sound positively sinister.”

“Tell me, does my young, naïve little friend have a name?” Solomon asked before he breathed in deeply.

“You can call me Richard,” he replied.

“I can, can I?” Solomon sighed. “I can call you Richard.”

“Do you have a problem with that?” the young man probed.

“Who do you work for, if not for Vey?”

“I can’t answer that,” the man said softly. “Not at this time. What I can tell you is that I do not work for the government… at least not the one that uses the eagle for its symbol.”

“Then what do you use for a symbol?” Solomon asked as he looked up at the man who was questioning him. He was not supposed to be able to see his face, not in this lighting. All he should have been able to make out was his shoes and pants, both of which were of too fine a grade to be the United States Government. He closed the file that was in his lap and Solomon could see that it was not a manila folder. The reflected light that sparkled off the top of the man’s hand came from a signet ring worn on the pinkie finger of his left hand. The sparkle told Solomon that the ring was also of the finest quality and craftsmanship.

“It depends upon the environment, Solomon,” the man answered as he straightened his jacket. “That’s our time for today. We will talk again; as soon as I can arrange it. Sweet dreams, Solomon.” Solomon could hear the equipment on his head and neck powering up. He begged Richard not to let the machines hurt him, but he had already turned to leave. Solomon could hear the switches open and he felt the surge of power run through his brain. His keepers definitely had his measure… he was not sure if he had said anything coherent, because he lost more than his vision when the machine went about its work. He lost the involuntary auditory nerves and his equilibrium. His only comfort was that he was on the floor already, so he did not have far to fall.

He reached the very bright corridor and paused a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. He looked back at the unconscious Solomon James Seaver and then walked down the corridor. He smoothed his hair back. In front of his hand it was black, but behind his hand it turned to a soft brown. He blinked his eyes hard three times and they returned to their normal hazel hue, though he was fond of having blue eyes. When he reached the next intersection, she joined him, as was expected, and matched his stride.

“Negative results on the probes,” she said and he chuckled.

“We thought as much,” he replied. “Impressive though. Mental defenses maintained, even in his state.”

“We are also out of time,” she continued. “Fairly soon the NSA is going to find out what they are holding is a doppelganger.”

“We can’t have that, can we?”

“I was hoping that was your position. Shall I?” she asked.

“Yes, have the stewards return him to his holding cell,” he said, barely able to contain his frustration. But his assistant smiled as she bowed and turned to complete the task at hand. That left him to deliver his report alone. Perhaps that was best. It was not as if she shared his fate for this failure. He continued down the corridor, increasing the speed of his stride. He had no idea what waited for him, but there was no point in procrastinating.

Per usual, the doors opened before he could reach them. Already he could hear the members to whom he reported. They had obviously read the reports and were probably discussing their options. The discussions quieted as he approached the speaking podium. Already he could see the playback of his ‘interview’ with Solomon Seaver on the large monitor on the eastern wall. But now Richard faced north, he faced the council of his superiors.

“Greetings my Masters!” Richard said aloud. He bowed three strides before he reached the podium and held his kneeling posture.

“Greetings, Luminary Richard,” a soft female voice replied. It was Luka and she was often the one to speak. She was called Master, just like any other. This council did not need to address gender, as it demanded respect of position and power. “What have you found?”

“Dr. Solomon Seaver has indeed benefited from his experiences,” Richard answered. “That of being fired by Samantha Vey when all she held was an Administrative Assistant position, and his travels in Undertown.”

“You limit him to the hub of Five Pointes, do you?”

“Our sources indicate nothing else,” Richard advised. “The woman named Rajana, though she was an , spent most of her time in a facility at the Edge of Undertown; just a few miles from Negatron City. We have concluded that through the use of a device called the Crown, Seaver was able to take her mind out of her body and implant it into a computer.”

“And where is this device now?” Luka quickly asked.

“It was destroyed when personnel of Optimum Horizons affected the capture of Seaver, my Master,” Richard reported, cueing the schematics for the Crown to be displayed. “However, we had already made sufficient copies of all the specs of the prototype and the improved versions. Our technicians project a working model within the next thirty days.”

“And what is your opinion of Dr. Seaver?” Luka asked as Richard continued to thumb through pages of the report.

“He spent most of our time together trying to establish a means of control, calculating what face he should use when addressing me.”

“So he was unaware of your probes?”

“One can never say for sure, my Master, but he gave absolutely no sign of said awareness to me or any of the instruments monitoring his thought processes.”

“Hmmm,” Luka replied as she sat back in her chair. “Poor is the talented man who thinks others do not rival his ability.”

“Or in the case of my Masters,” Richard added, “those who best that talent.”

“Such is the argument of perpetual relativity, Richard,” Luka dismissed the conversation as she looked upon Richard who looked as if he was awaiting sentencing. “Someone or something will always be better and/or greater.

“But that does not explain your stature or the long face you wear. Luminary, do you think you have failed us?”

“Have I not?” Richard said with a sigh, lowering his head.

“You will not be told to monitor yourself, Luminary!” Akahata barked. “Not a second time.”

“My apologies, my Masters,” Richard quickly replied and straightened himself right away.

“Luminaries seldom need to apologize, Richard,” Luka stated. “And with the exception of the most immediate moment, that includes you. You have not failed us. You have, however, overestimated what you would be able to deliver from such a short time of involvement with this particular case.

“We have received reports from our contacts on the Pointe-side of the Nexus that attempts have been made to capture Imogene Schultz. Attempts that have sorely failed.”

“Failed?!” Richard repeated, quite confused by the report. “She has help, then.”

“A very good deduction to make, Luminary Richard, but perhaps you should observe this.” With that cue the monitor replayed the events where Imogene caught a laser bolt and kept it from harming the craft in which she was riding. “So you see, Luminary, we must all readjust what we think we know if we are to continue our efforts to procure the Shard.

“We were told more than the Shard would be sent, but aside from that communiqué, nothing else has been received in the fashion it was meant to… including the delivery of the Shard.”

“What would my Masters ask of me?” Richard asked. His shoulders were square and his chest was out. He was ready to get back to work.

“Now that you are about the business of returning Seaver to his proper keepers, see to it a low level of surveillance is maintained.”

“You expect trouble out of him?” Richard asked.

“”His ability to manipulate the Shard has been severely hampered. But we still do not know in full what he busied himself with during his stay in Undertown. The act of the…

took less than an hour of time. We are called upon to account for months.

“Also, for a considerable amount of time, he has kept his abilities hidden,” Luka continued. “Who is to say he has displayed all that he can do?”

“It shall be done!” Richard said, giving a sharp head bow.

“Once you have seen to that, it might serve our interests for you to relocate to San Diego and see if you can locate persons of interest in the Schultz file. Once located, have them monitored as well.”

“Might this observation call for infiltration?” Richard anticipated.

“We will leave that decision to your discretion,” Luka answered. “But have a care, Luminary. This means we are giving you power and in that power is the possibility for failure.”

“Then I shall apply my best efforts,” Richard said as he stepped back from the podium. “By the will of the Selachimorpha!”

“You may depart, Luminary,” Luka replied and with that Richard made his exit.

Imogene knocked on the back door of the house and prayed for a good result. Despite the number of people she and Sharon had seen at the beach, none of them had been Javier or Cullen. It was now Sunday, so there would be no waiting for Cullen at the high school. That left the only home address they knew; the last known home address for Javier Navarro. The moment she heard movement she knocked again and then ran off to go around to the front door.

“I hope someone is having fun!” Franklin shouted as he opened the door, seeing no around, but plenty of footprints in the sand. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?! The freakin’ game’s on!”

“Tell me again why we’re sneaking into your Uncle’s house?” Sharon said as she crept into the front door.

“Wilma’s little mind wipe. He doesn’t remember what happened, remember?” Imogene whispered. “My Dad is probably on his way back to South America.”

“You really put some thought into this, didn’t you?” Sharon asked as she tried to make her eyesight bend around the walls.

“Not really,” Imogene admitted.

“

,” Sharon thought as she looked at an emotional Timothy, sharing a drink with an emotional Nora and Alan Thaxton. It looked as if they were waiting for Frank to return. Nora’s heart was heavy, that much was obvious, but Alan wiped tears away as his brow tightened over his eyes. “

,” Sharon thought, realizing that Alan was now smelling his daughter.

“Grab the TV, man!” Sharon shouted in a low, male-sounding voice as she lifted her PEP, set it at its lowest yield and fired a force beam into the living room, striking the entertainment center.

“Up the stairs, Genie!” she whispered and the two of them tried to run as fast and as quietly as they could. Sharon fired her PEP again and opened the front door and Imogene remembered to usher Sharon to the left side of the stairway. When Imogene reached the top of the stairs, she knelt and fired her PEP several times at the carpet; each blast approaching the open doorway. Force energy did not burn, but it made for a good facsimile of footfalls.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Alan shouted as he drew his pistol and charged into the living room. He could see the door to the DVD storage bin still moving, but nothing else. He heard the footsteps which sounded labored.

“Alan, what is it?” Nora asked.

“Nora, check the front door,” he directed and he could hear his wife reach into her purse and retrieve her pistol. “I think we have burglars. Frank, get in here and tell me if everything’s here.”

“

?” Alan asked, as his mind had already given him an answer that did not make any sense.

“Front door’s open,” Nora called out.

Imogene led Sharon to the room where Javier and Milania were supposed to have been, but they stopped shy of the door.

“What’s wrong?” Sharon asked.

“What if they won’t remember us either?!” Imogene said.

“Crap!” Sharon gritted her teeth.

“Hey, Frank,” both girls could hear Alan call out. “Didn’t you say your two were at the soccer field?”

“They’ve got another couple of hours, Alan,” Franklin replied in an agitated tone. “Give the kids some room!” Both girls could hear the creaking noise coming from the stairway. Alan quietly cursed the sound giving away his position.

Imogene opened the door and went inside the room. “Follow my lead,” she said as she opened the doors that led out to a small wooden porch. Imogene used her PEP to grab Sharon and put her on the roof. Once she landed, Sharon grabbed Imogene and brought her up.

“How did you know how to do that?” Sharon asked. “For that matter, how did I?!”

“I wish I knew how to work the inertia differential on these things!” Imogene whispered before her mouth was covered and she was forced to lie down. She could hear Alan run out on the balcony.

“Hey!” he yelled and they could hear him land on the sand and start running. When they lifted their heads up enough to see, Alan was running after a young man who was running himself, scared to death of Alan Thaxton.

“You have got to remember that Alan Thaxton is a bloodhound that’s missing two legs,” Sharon whispered.

“Well he’s gone, so why are we whispering?”

“Because his wife has built-in radar!”

“So what do we do?”

“I lower you down on the east side of the house,” Sharon plotted. “You get me down and we run at least two hundred meters before we start making our way to the soccer field.” Imogene had no trouble following Sharon’s lead on things like field tactics. It did not escape her notice that as they ran, Sharon emitted a wide angle force beam that combed the sand and erased their footprints.

It took some time to get to the soccer field, as two hundred meters on sand just was not good enough for Sharon, but they eventually arrived at a service being held in their honor. Leaflets were being handed out with their pictures on them, and it looked like there were search parties being organized. Sharon told Imogene to hold back and wait for her while she made her way into the group. Sharon returned several moments later, to the amazement of Imogene, with a very clever idea she had already set in motion.

“You’re pretty spooky, you know that?” Imogene said as they came to the site that Sharon had chosen. She felt confident they would not be interrupted here. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”

“That makes two of us, Genie,” Sharon said as she sat down on the ground. “Look, I know we only have a few minutes…”

“But you’ve been holding off on our little talk because of the whole Edge-training thing and you didn’t want to throw me off,” Imogene said.

“Okay, that’s just spooky!” Sharon replied.

“Right! Hey Pot? This is Kettle… sheesh, Shar. But we don’t keep secrets, do we?” Imogene asked.

“We keep a couple,” Sharon admitted. “You were never going to tell me about posing for Wayne and I can understand that. It was more his secret to share anyway.”

Imogene sighed and leaned against her best friend. “Man, I am so glad you aren’t mad at me for that one, and I guess you’re right, we do keep a couple. But this shouldn’t be one of them.

“Sharon, it’s hard to put into words… all the things that have happened. It’s like the universe is spinning around us for a change and it’s waiting on us to-”

“You,” Sharon corrected. “If anything, it’s waiting on you!”

“But you and me-”

“We will be what we will be,” Sharon said. “… but don’t speak for the universe. It’s not waiting one bit to see what Sharon Thaxton is going to do. Or Wayne Jefferson or Gordon Schultz. It’s waiting on you!

“No, you’re wrong!” Imogene argued.

“Look, Genie, it’s cool! Really it is. You know… four other guys had to share the court with Jordan to win the championship. And they got rings too.”

“You can be my Refrigerator Perry any day!” Imogene said with a smile. Sharon looked into the eyes of her friend and thought she was too cute in her ignorance to be corrected. Besides, the point had been made.

“

,” Sharon thought.

“So, what do you want this Refrigerator to keep on its private shelf?”

Imogene closed her eyes for a moment made contact with Nollie. Her eyes began to glow and she opened them to look at Sharon.

“That just won’t get old!” Sharon said softly as she touched Imogene’s face. “Does that hurt or anything?”

“No,” she answered with a smile.

“Can you see through walls?”

“N-N-N-No… not yet.”

“Is everything okay?” Sharon asked.

“I’m still getting used to it, Shar,” Imogene answered. “I don’t really know what all we can do yet.”

“We?”

“The Shard is sentient,” Imogene explained. “Complete with a mind all its own. I call it Nollie.”

“Oh, that was a stretch!” Sharon replied. “Okay, you were right. The universe is waiting on us. You and Nollie!”

“Whatever!” Imogene sighed. “I’m just glad I’m not wiggin’ you out!”

“You forgot who we just had to get away from,” Sharon remarked. “You try going on mock-hunts with that and come away easy to goose!”

“He used to hunt you?!” Imogene was shocked and lost her link with Nollie.

“We used to hunt each other,” Sharon said. “First one to get tagged lost. And the moderator was my mother!” Imogene wore a look of sympathetic pain and Sharon giggled before she could hear footfalls. When her face changed, so did Imogene’s, who simply waited for Sharon’s directives. “Here they come.”

“Man, this is lame!” Cullen said as he kicked at the ground.

“You don’t have to search if you don’t want to,” Milania scolded. Imogene and Sharon traded surprised smiles. “But we’re going to search for them!”

“That’s not what I mean,” Cullen argued. “We were all there together on the beach, kickin’ it and havin’ a good time, right?” Both Javier and Milania nodded. “Okay, so now they’re gone and we all have the same holes in our memories?! C’mon, man! Don’t you know a government conspiracy when you fall into one?”

“This is rich!” Sharon whispered.

“We saw Genie surf… wow, did we!” Imogene smiled at the way his face changed, reminiscing about what he saw her do on the water. But he quickly came back with even more intensity. “And we saw Sharon kick major butt. Those dudes from the Goon Patrol did something to our minds, man!”

“Well, they were wearing black,” Javier added and Cullen almost jumped up and down.

“Now you’re cookin’, man!” Cullen said as he pointed at Javier.

“So what do we do then?” Milania asked. “Those guys didn’t leave a forwarding address, you know!” Sharon and Imogene leaned on each other to keep from cackling. “We have to do what we can! By the way, you completely left out Gordon and Wayne. And how come we woke up at the hospital if none of us were hurt?”

“Maybe you were injured,” Imogene said as she stepped out from their cover. “… and you just didn’t know it.”

“Santa Maria!” Javier said as he looked at Imogene and then at Sharon who joined her. “I can’t believe it! Are you guys okay?” Javier quickly looked around.

“Don’t worry, we gave those G-Men the slip,” Sharon said feigning seriousness. Cullen did not catch the joke and took extra precaution as he looked in all directions.

“We’ll make this short and simple,” Sharon said. “We came back for you two guys. But don’t worry, Milania, we’re not thinking of making you stay behind if your brother wants to go.”

“Go where?” Milania asked, very much excited. “Where Gordon is?”

“Yes, where Gordon and Wayne are and where we just came from,” Imogene answered. “This is going to sound off the wall and what’s worse, you have to answer now because we have to go now! But I want to tell you about a place called Five Pointes!”

∞∞ ∞∞

Again his eyes opened, but this time, there was no pain, just dizziness. He was still restrained, but by padded leather straps, and the bed he was in the middle of was very comfortable. The room was air conditioned and there were no posted guards on the inside of the chamber. There was nothing on his back, shoulders, neck or head and only his neck muscles seemed to remember the imposition.

“

,” Solomon thought as he looked at the wall of the room. The color of paint, the size of the room and the sound of the shoes he heard out in the corridor all stank of American Government.

“Of course, this only begs the question of just who is Richard,” Solomon muttered. The door to his room opened not long after the sentence passed from his lips.

“Seaver, Solomon James, good morning,” a man in an Air Force uniform walked into the room. “My name is Dr. Klindale. I’ll be asking you a few questions.”

“Air Force?” Solomon reviewed. “Doesn’t it pain you that so many regard the Air Force as an also-ran militia? Of course, like Mississippi is to Alabama, I’m sure the Air Force says ‘Thank God for the Coast Guard’!” Solomon started to laugh before he received an electric shock and he glared at Klindale. That was a textbook mistake: trying to establish control over Solomon Seaver.

“You’re not used to that sort of shock, are you, Seaver?” Klindale asked as he started writing on the clipboard. A smug smile spread wide across his face.

“

,” Solomon thought.

“How long do you give yourself?” Solomon asked, receiving another shock.

“I’d say pretty long while I’m doing all the electrical work.”

“And when you can’t anymore?” Solomon asked. He could hear the switch open but he had adapted to the charge and it passed harmlessly through his body. “Like right now?!”

The screams did not stop until three different guards shot Solomon’s body full of tranquilizers. Klindale was dead, along with four others who had come running to his aid. Solomon knew the events leading to his potential escape would need to be veiled in a number of things, homicidal mania served as a fair blanket. He knew he was not going to escape too soon. Nor did he want to; there were too many eyes on him at the moment. But as far as his keepers, he had to make them fear him more first, and then, after a series of events, let them believe they had broken him, that they had won. Only then, barring fate, glaring stupidity or Solomon actually losing his mind (which he always considered as entirely possible), would he be afforded a true opportunity to escape and resume his plans. Of course, given his status of freedom before he was overwhelmed with drugs, Solomon had managed to send a signal; an electromagnetic pulse. Solomon knew there were two parties that would be very watchful, awaiting such a burst, and both of them knew what to do. Plans had been made, and it would have been most unsavory of him to make threats and then not live up to them! Unsavory indeed!

“We received the signal,” Planax reported as he walked in off the balcony. He was running a diagnostic on the equipment, insuring the pulse he had received was genuine. He did not like the translated , but it was functioning as promised. Solomon may not have been able to avoid capture, but his workmanship was still very trustworthy. “It seems that neither Seaver will be making it to the rendezvous point.”

“I take it the time of the event has not changed?” Quiledel called out from the bathroom, and Planax sighed. “Ahh, that demeaning sigh of ill-favor brands you, my friend,” she said. Apparently she really enjoyed bathing in water. Her last soak had concluded less than five hours ago and she was about to run another bath. Planax, however, saw it as a waste of resources, much like everything else on this side of the Nexus. “How frustrating it must be for you, a man with no rank, to be in the company of a woman, who is an officer. Just remember one thing, Planax; everything happens for a reason.”

“The signal has been confirmed,” Planax replied.

“Good then. Make sure we are ready to leave,” Quiledel commanded. “In two hours, I want you to call down to the front desk and advise them of our departure.”

“Two hours, Commander?”

“The event is still four days away… our mode of transportation will have us at the coordinates in under one hour’s time… and our identities on this side of the Nexus have not yet been compromised. So there is no need to rush.

“Besides,” she continued, pouring oils for her bath, “… I am not done soaking, Planax.”

“Yes, Commander. I will make sure our Master is ready to mobilize at the given time.” Planax did not wait for a response. He opened the door that separated the rooms in the hotel and walked into the room where he slept. Webster was, as usual, hard at work doing nothing.

“She drivin’ you up the wall again, P-Man?” Webster said as he took a healthy gulp of his super-caffeinated drink. “These might help you relax.”

Webster leaned back after turning his screen toward Planax. The Master assigned to their team had obviously placed cameras in the bathroom without the Commander’s knowledge. He had captured viewings of her undressing and entering the tub. Quiledel was not a very good soldier, she had no sense of duty or honor. That did not keep her treated form from being most attractive to the eye. Planax took a moment to come away from his normal grim demeanor and looked upon the dark-haired woman’s body. The way the oils made her tanned skin glow in the soft light... Planax then cut his eyes over to Webster who was wearing a very proud grin.

“If the Commander were to know of this-”

“Yeah, she’d pop a head-gasket for sure,” Webster answered, tossing the empty can to the floor and grabbing another out of the small refrigerator. “I won’t bother showing you the whole video. That kind of viewing should really be done alone. So, they really have Sols on lockdown?”

“So it would appear,” Planax answered. “We are to proceed to the rendezvous without him.”

“Check that,” Webster said, replacing the can in the cooling unit. “How long have I got?”

“Two hours, as if you did not know,” Planax said roughly. He took out his blade and drew it quickly over his head. It was not an easy feat with an energy blade, but Planax had yet to burn himself. His bald head glistened.

“Planax, you are my chocolate wonder,” Webster smiled. “I was just testing you… seeing if you were going to let the dumpage roll on down hill. But you are one straight-shooter. You don’t like our Commander, who is really the nepotism poster child of the season, and man, you don’t make any bones about it. You are still wet behind the ears and you are just dah-man!”

“I am an !” Planax replied. “And unlike those of my blood who served before me, I am a man of honor! I will follow my orders and I will be victorious in my endeavors or I will be dead!”

“So glad I am to be on the less honor-bound side of things,” Webster said, shrugging his shoulders. “Ya know, I’ll take an ‘L’ every now and then. It’s a long season, and sometimes your QB’s not right… the defense needs a foot up their butt… sometimes you have to step back before you can step forward.”

“That makes no sense!” Planax snapped.

“You can see more when you step back, P. Obsessions kill, babe! You wanna clear the family name, I gotcha on that. Dude, I’m two twelve-packs shy of trailer-trash myself. I mean, my Dad would not park the double-wide we were in tornado country! How clueless is that?

“But if you wanna carry that flag just to make the pole break… you know, die before you know you did it right, there you gotta go alone, man!” Webster’s normally weird-looking light brown eyes were sharp and fixed on Planax’s dark brown eyes. “We’re both in bad positions, man. You got a messed up Commander.”

“Who is also your Commander,” Planax reminded him.

“Yeah, until Solomon gets back, and that’s not exactly a trade up, ya know?!”

“I thought the two of you were friends.”

“We were, until he touched the zone, man!” Webster whispered.

“The zone?”

“He went to a place with that Crown of his, man,” Webster said softly. “…and what came back was not Solomon Seaver. Either that, or the real Solomon had me snowed. Either way, I’m screwed!”

“Then what is your… plan?” Planax asked, folding his arms.

“First, relax the interrogation mode,” Webster pleaded. “I’m not going to go back on what I promised the Negatroix. As for the rendezvous? You better believe I am going to look for the means to get Webster Meeks some freakin’ leverage.”

Planax looked at the man for a moment. They could both hear Quiledel singing. She was once again soaking. In between the woman’s failing attempts at carrying a note, Planax listened to the team’s Master. Everything Webster had said, despite the need for translation, made sense… especially the changes in Solomon James Seaver. Plus, the Master could identify with Planax’s greatest need: to reestablish the family name and position of honor.

“We have an accord… dude,” Planax said, extending his hand. The two men shook as Quiledel giggled loudly and splashed in the tub. “Be sure to get me a copy of your… surveillance.”