{"id":136299,"date":"2019-07-14T05:40:09","date_gmt":"2019-07-14T05:40:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/?page_id=136299"},"modified":"2019-07-14T05:40:09","modified_gmt":"2019-07-14T05:40:09","slug":"the-colored-lens-28-summer-2018","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/?page_id=136299","title":{"rendered":"The Colored Lens #28 \u2013 Summer 2018"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a name=\"start\"><\/a><br \/>\n<a href=\"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Cover.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/Cover.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"790\" height=\"1024\" \/><\/a><br \/>\n<center><br \/>\n<font style=\"font-size: 48pt\" size=\"7\">The Colored Lens<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"6\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"6\">Speculative Fiction Magazine<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font style=\"font-size: 20pt\" size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font style=\"font-size: 20pt\" size=\"5\">Summer 2018 \u2013 Issue #28<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\">Featuring works by Marc Humphrey, Jamie Lackey, Dawn Vogel, Burris D. Nichols, K.G. Delmare, Jim Meeks-Johnson, G. Allen Wilbanks, C.J. Carter Stephenson, Andrea Tang, Jacob Adams, and J.A. Becker.<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\"><br \/>\n<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\"><br \/>\n<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\">Edited by Dawn Lloyd and Daniel Scott<br \/>\nHenry Fields, Associate Editor<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\">Published by Light Spring LLC <\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\">Fort Worth, Texas<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\">\u00a9 Copyright 2018, All Rights Reserved<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font color=\"#000080\"><span lang=\"zxx\"><u><\/u><\/span><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font color=\"#000080\"><u><a href=\"http:\/\/www.thecoloredlens.com\/\"><font size=\"5\">www.TheColoredLens.com<\/font><\/a><\/u><\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<a name=\"TOC\"><\/a><br \/>\n<a id=\"TOC\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 align=\"center\">Table of Contents<\/h1>\n<ul>\n<li><a href=\"#stranger\">Stranger and Stranger<\/a> by Marc Humphrey<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#waves\">The Pull of the Waves<\/a> by Jamie Lackey<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#happily\">Happily Never After<\/a> by Dawn Vogel<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#drop\">Drop Serene<\/a> by Burris D. Nichols<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#sedate\">Sedate and Transport<\/a> by K.G. Delmare<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#alchemy\">The Science of Alchemy<\/a> by Jim Meeks-Johnson<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#garden\">My Grandmother&#8217;s Garden<\/a> by G. Allen Wilbanks<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#ruritanian\">The Ruritanian Duke of Kunlun<\/a> by Andrea Tang<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#interdimensional\">The Interdimensional Megastar<\/a> by C.J. Carter-Stephenson<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#haze\">White Haze<\/a> by Jacob Adams<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#rains\">Hosts for the Rains<\/a> by J.A. Becker<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"stranger\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">Stranger and Stranger<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy Marc Humphrey<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe rig, it was right here,\u201d I panicked, to Heinz. \u201cWhere the hell could it have gone?\u201d We stared at the empty patch of snow, beside the long hose and the discarded boots and cylinders, and wondered about the spacewoman.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe looked at me with typical, big-brother derision. Twin jets of irritation streamed from his nostrils. \u201cSure it was, Ingo. Sure it was. I\u2019ll bet she blasted into space, right here, from this very spot. And now she\u2019s probably on her way to some nearby star.\u201d He shivered audibly, then cinched his red-and-white, eagle-embroidered scarf up to the curly hairs growing from his ears. \u201cIt\u2019s cold. I\u2019m going back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFinally, I thought I&#8217;d had him. Just once, Heinz would appreciate just how exceptional his little brother\u2019s life could be. But then, after dragging him all the way into the Alps, and then out into this frozen meadow on this frozen morning, all I had to show was a whole bunch of freshly packed snow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was mired in disbelief when he started back to the farmhouse. He was laboring to stay on top of the thin crisp of ice, rather than sink into knee-deep powder, when he heard the loud, rippling sound. He looked into the sky, pondered, looked some more, and then began to exclaim.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeinz Baumgartner had been my older brother for as long as I can remember. And for that entire time I\u2019d basked in his radiance, mostly unnoticed, a rocky exoplanet beside a main-sequence star. As the firstborn, his every milestone had been recorded and every success had earned him praise. And in the narrow, self-centered universe that emerged he always had a better story to tell&#8211;whether he did or whether he didn\u2019t.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut the thing about rocky exoplanets, they\u2019re often more interesting than their main-sequence stars.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor more than thirty years my brother and I had spent the first Friday of October at his vineyard in Carinthia, down where Austria kisses Slovenia just beyond Hungary\u2019s view. These were mostly one-sided affairs, during which I\u2019d hear the latest retread of last year\u2019s stories. If I was lucky I\u2019d slip in a wholly unappreciated reference to myself somewhere along the way.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut this year was going to be different, he would see, and midway through our second bottle of Weissburgunder I began my amazing tale. \u201cHeinz, I have a spaceman living in my attic.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis stare was blank and flummoxed. I\u2019d been too abrupt, I never did transition well. I tried again.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI said, a spaceman. Though she\u2019s more of a spacewoman I suppose.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIngo, what in the hell are you talking about?\u201d He spoke that sing-song, rollicking German native to the outer reaches of Austria.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe arrived a few weeks ago, out of the blue. She was covered from head to toe in this red and white robe, like a burqa, and all I could see were her eyes. They were strangely dark, almost hollow. She talks funny, can\u2019t weigh more than 20 kilos, and smells, well, somewhere between ozone and engine oil.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIngo,\u201d he said gravely, \u201cturn around.\u201d He gestured with full glass at the young man sitting on a backless bench at the rear of his Weingarten. He wasn\u2019t drinking, nor doing much of anything besides looking bored and conspicuous. \u201cSee him?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nodded.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe\u2019s been bunking with my farmhands. His name is &#8230; oh hell, I forget. Let\u2019s call him Sepp.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSepp?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYea, Sepp. He arrived with a whole pack of \u2018em, a few weeks back, on the 14:30 from Zagreb. The rest continued onward to Munich, thank God. But not him, he hung around. Speaks English to me, but I get most of it. Says there\u2019s some war back home and he\u2019s looking for a new start. Says he\u2019s got a family and he\u2019s making a way for them.\u201d Heinz took a long sip then exhaled from the back of his throat. \u201cI\u2019m not so sure.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked at Sepp, who was now looking at us, uncomfortable with the attention. \u201cIt could be true,\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeinz\u2019 unshaven faced scrunched up like a raisin, as often happens when I have something to say.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cReally,\u201d I continued. \u201cThere\u2019s been quite a few like him recently. A lot of them are from Syria, and, yes, there\u2019s a civil war.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnyway,\u201d he pivoted, \u201cfor a bed and something to eat he offered to help with the harvest. The frosts were coming early, so I played along. Talk about smelling funny. Kind of like old figs in need of a good rain. I have no idea what he\u2019ll do in the winter. But for sure it\u2019s gonna cost me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMaria,\u201d I said, reclaiming the floor.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCome again?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe wouldn\u2019t tell me her name, so I started calling her Maria.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe spacewoman.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cRight.\u201d Heinz took the Lodenhut from his head and scratched the tangled, snow-white nest beneath. \u201cWell, what does she want?\u201d he asked, his downward inflection revealing disinterest.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWater, mostly.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWater.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes. Wherever she came from, it must be very dry. I offered her food, and clothing, but all she wanted was water. Clean water. That\u2019s all she could talk about. I showed her the faucet in the bath and she was thrilled.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMust have been awful thirsty.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m not so sure. The thing is, she never actually drank any. At least, not that I saw. She seemed more into saving it for later. I gave her some Tupperware.\u201d I glanced at Sepp, who glanced away. \u201cStrangest woman I\u2019ve ever seen. She just has to be from another world.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cA spacewoman.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes, a spacewoman.\u201d I drew out that last word for maximum impact.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA deep orange sunset appeared above the nearest hillock, where Heinz\u2019 trellises stood out like the stubble on his chin. He gazed slowly at the brilliance, savored the features of his fatherland, then turned toward me earnestly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIngo?\u201d he asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI leaned forward.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe buffet\u2019s gonna close. You hungry?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs usual, Advent arrived two months later. And per our custom Heinz and I met in Klagenfurt to visit the Christkindlmarkt. The cold autumn was turning to frigid winter, and we huddled next to the kettle of roasting chestnuts. Cloves and aniseed filled the air, and Gl\u00fchwein warmed our bellies.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe\u2019s still around,\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMaria.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeinz drew a blank.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know, the spacewoman.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAh yes, she.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe was humoring me, I could tell, but I continued all the same. This time, he would see. \u201cHer demands are still queer. Last week she wanted some hydrogen gas. She asked if I had a tap for that too, and was disappointed to learn that I didn\u2019t. I told her something like that\u2019s a little harder to come by.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeinz was listening, I suppose, though his attention had been divided between me and the young ladies who\u2019d asked to share our standing table. They were buried in layers of wool, bare hands soaking up heat from ceramic mugs of Punsch as they chatted, noses tipped the shade of Zweigelt.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe asked if I had helium, and I told her not much&#8211;a couple of cylinders in the welding barn, but that was it. She left for a few minutes, then came back, this time asking for methane too.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMethane?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes, and now we were in business. I took her to the cellar and showed here the furnace.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat on Earth would she want with methane?\u201d Heinz asked, suspiciously.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTo fill the bale wrappers.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTo fill the bale wrappers?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes. Once I showed her the gas line, she asked for some \u2018holders.\u2019 I had no idea what she meant, until she puffed out her burqa like a sea squab.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeinz pulled a handful of change from his thick, Dachstein woolwear jacket and began adding it up. \u201cHow about a Bratwurst?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI agreed, then followed as he swam against the throng. I raised my voice so that he could hear. \u201cSo I took her to the hay barn. You know, the one up in the birch grove.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cUh-huh.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI opened it up and showed her the big rubber sacks we use to wrap the hay to turn it to silage. She seemed content enough, but she wasn\u2019t done yet. The next thing she wanted was a net.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cKetchup or mustard?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBoth,\u201d I replied. \u201cActually, two nets. When I told her I&#8217;m a farmer, not a fisherman, she just stared at me, waiting for a better answer. So, I thought of the stretchy nets we use to keep the cabbages from bouncing out of the lorry. She also asked for a scythe. \u2018Only if,\u2019 was all she said.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI took a bite of the brat, and it was hot and crisp and delicious.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo, you remember that guy Sepp?\u201d Heinz asked while I chewed. \u201cHe\u2019s still around.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m not surprised, there\u2019s really nowhere else&#8211;\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTook a job at the supermarket. Looks ridiculous in those tight red pants. He moved out, into his own flat. Started to speak some German for crying out loud.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIn Heinz\u2019 book, Sepp\u2019s efforts to integrate were neither praiseworthy nor welcome.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe\u2019s even been drinking Almdudler,\u201d he complained.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cStill?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo, carbonated. Uppity little shit.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nChristmas came, and Christmas went, but the bitter winter lingered. And during one of its blizzards I began to wonder about Maria.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHallo?\u201d Heinz said when he answered the phone.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHeinz? It\u2019s me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIngo?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes. Listen, I think I need some help.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy are you whispering?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was all alone, so I didn\u2019t know. We always whisper when we don\u2019t want others to hear. \u201cIt\u2019s Maria,\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis silence registered another blow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know, the spacewoman.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYea, of course. What does she want now?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA strong gust slammed the shutters against the window frames. I crept up to one and peered through a crack and saw her lantern flickering wildly in the distance. \u201cShe didn\u2019t ask for anything new, but she\u2019s been acting very strange.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe has, huh?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes. She spends most of her time out in the east forty, fiddling around with something.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe does, huh?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes. I think she might be building something. Some sort of &#8230; contraption. Even tonight, of all nights. It\u2019s windy as hell.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI can hear.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI start to worry she\u2019s up to no good.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThen call the cops, Ingo.\u201d The wind howled again.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat, so they can just take her away? No, I\u2019m not ready to do that yet. It\u2019s just a suspicion, a hunch, that\u2019s all.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is, huh?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYea.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI could hear my brother hunting through his wine closet, turning over bottles to view their labels. I could hear the television in the background.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHeinz?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYea?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019d like you to come over, to see for yourself. If she worries you too, then we can go to the police together.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAw Ingo, I don\u2019t know. I\u2019ve got some things on this end.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI see,\u201d I said, before playing the silent card.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know, the vineyard and all.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBut it\u2019s the middle of winter.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cRight.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI waited him out some more.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOK, OK. You see, the truth is, it\u2019s Sepp. I think he might be up to no good.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow so?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe gets cheekier each day. He started working in the carpenter\u2019s shop.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd, well, he doesn\u2019t belong there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe just doesn\u2019t belong there, you know. And get this&#8230;\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe started driving.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow dare he.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYea, can you believe it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cActually, yes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd he\u2019s been hanging out with the grandkids. Says he just wants to practice his German. I don\u2019t know about that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBecause, Ingo, because. Needless to say, I got my eye on him. I\u2019m just waiting for him to screw up. And he will. And when he does &#8230; it\u2019s bye-bye Seppi.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI waited for a few moments so the subject could change.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHeinz?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYea?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCould you please stop by?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe searched for another excuse, but none came to mind. \u201cAw hell, Ingo, you\u2019re hopeless,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll be there in the morning.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe loud flapping drew my eyes skyward too, and there she was. Maria broke through the clouds beneath a giant net of deflating balloons, her red-white burqa waving like an Austrian flag behind a strong gale. She landed hard, but not too hard, and then she stood and looked in our direction.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeinz looked at me, and I at him. Neither of us knew what to say, though for very different reasons. I turned and hurried to my guest, to see if she\u2019d been injured. She hadn\u2019t, at least not on the outside. But she made a horrible sound that could only be likened to weeping.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeinz caught up to us, his nose getting a dose of the methane. He stood silently while I tried to console her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMaria stammered between sobs. \u201cThe holders &#8230; they holded &#8230; thank you &#8230; much so.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked into her dark eyes, but they were still lifeless and cold, black like engine oil. I felt an urge to embrace her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThey took me up,\u201d she continued. \u201cThe water and me, they took we up.\u201d She wailed some more, and I laid a hand on her shoulder. I was shocked to find not flesh and bone but cold, hard metal.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBehind us, Heinz had caught up. \u201cYou\u2019re damn strange,\u201d he said, with typical grace. \u201cWhere\u2019re you from?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cForget it Heinz, she won\u2019t&#8211;\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cGJ 699,\u201d she did.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeinz didn\u2019t flinch, but my head was spinning. This was a code, and it had a meaning. According to the Gliese Catalogue, my visitor was from Barnard\u2019s Star.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSuddenly, a blazing bright orb appeared high above us. It accelerated southward and away and then, just as suddenly, it disappeared. Seconds later we heard the thunder, a loud and very strange thunder, which ceased just as fast as the flash had gone. It could have been my imagination, except that Heinz had heard and seen it too. He clucked like a man-sized chicken, and then shook his head lightly, eyes narrowing as disbelief spread to his innermost bits and pieces.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt was them,\u201d Maria explained. \u201cIt my family and the space boat. They go now. They now safe are. I can say now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSay? What?\u201d I asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAll,\u201d she replied.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe\u2019re listening, aren\u2019t we Ingo.\u201d My brother was suddenly very interested. It really wasn\u2019t like him.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nodded, and Maria told us everything. About how she and her family had travelled from their world on a scouting expedition. About how they had orbited and studied Earth for years, and how their advanced cloaking system had allowed them to do so undetected. About the collision with the space debris, and the leak, and the venting of their hydrogen stores, and their critical need for fusion fuel for their return home.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe water,\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes, the water. Why it is I come.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe hadn\u2019t been thirsty at all. Her robotic body required no hydration, nor nutrients whatsoever. But once she had a few liters of water, all she needed was a decent balloon, and the right timing, to get plenty of fusion fuel within range of her starship\u2019s tractor beam.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt worked, the cabbage net,\u201d she said. \u201cIt holded the holders. But why not bigger your nets?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wasn\u2019t sure how to reply.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy? If bigger your nets, I would be go too. I would be now with them.\u201d She looked skyward, and Heinz and I did the same. \u201cThe methane is too like air. Too heavy is it. I must let go the water. It and helium go up, me and methane down come.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThis was Maria\u2019s \u201conly if,\u201d and sadly, it had come to pass. She had come here for her family\u2019s benefit, alone, a stranger to an alien place. And, when needed, she sacrificed herself.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cChrist,\u201d Heinz exclaimed, visibly shaken, clearly searching for words. \u201cI\u2019m not saying I believe her, now, but just suppose it\u2019s true, what she\u2019s saying. Just suppose she\u2019s not lying. Then it really is amazing, you know, that thing she just did.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI might have seen a tiny droplet freezing in the corner of his eye.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe must be exhausted,\u201d he said, with oddly wavering voice. \u201cLet&#8217;s take her in.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe began the trudge back to the house, Heinz carrying the spacewoman in his arms like a robotic child. For some reason, I began to wonder what this might mean for Sepp. I turned to my big brother, and his Lodenhut and Dachstein woolwear jacket, and the red-and-white, eagle-embroidered scarf cinched up to his ears.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut I wasn\u2019t brave enough to ask.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"waves\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">The Pull of the Waves<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy Jamie Lackey<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe first letter came in a bottle, bobbing in with the tide.  My older sister and I had gone out before sunrise to stand with our toes in the ocean.  It was so big, so loud, so strong.  I was already overwhelmed when the bottle tapped against my calf.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe glass was turquoise&#8211;my favorite color&#8211;and it was shaped like an old-fashioned coke bottle, long-necked and elegant.  I picked it up without thinking and hugged it to my chest.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nDenise laughed and danced across the wet sand.  Her hair billowed in the wind and shone in the early morning light.  I stood and hugged the bottle and shuddered at the feeling of the ocean pulling at my feet.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI didn&#8217;t notice the letter until after breakfast.  Everyone else was excited to go swimming, but I stayed in the cottage, searching for pliers to pull out the cork.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe letter was folded in half, then curled tight.  A pale purple flower was pressed flat inside it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt took another moment to realize that the letter was actually addressed to me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Dearest Lindy,&#8221; it read, &#8220;You don&#8217;t know me yet, but I wanted to send you a token of my regard.  I know that the upcoming months will be difficult for you, but know that I care deeply for you already.  If you ever have need of me, simply stand in the water and call.  I will come.  Yours forever, Elzin.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Elzin,&#8221; I whispered.  It wasn&#8217;t a name I&#8217;d ever heard before.  I left the flower in the letter, put it back into the bottle, and tucked it into my suitcase.  I was young enough to not question, to just believe in this tiny magical moment, but old enough to know that it wasn&#8217;t something to mention to anyone else.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI sat on the porch and read my book till Denise came and dragged me down to the ocean for our picnic lunch.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nDenise&#8217;s cough started soon after we got home from vacation, and she faded quickly.  The doctors did what they could, but it wasn&#8217;t enough.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen there was nothing more to do, they sent her home.  I sat next to her in her dark room, holding her hand as it grew thinner, day by day.  I read to her, using a single strip of sunlight that fell through the curtains to see the letters.  Books about the ocean always made her smile.  I tried not to remember the fear I&#8217;d felt looking out at its vastness, and smile at the bits of trivia that my sister loved.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAfter the funeral, I found a wooden box on my bed with a seashell nestled inside.  When I held it to my ear, I could hear my sister&#8217;s laughter.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTime passed.  Anytime I was lonely or sad, Elzin would send a note or a gift.  I treasured each one, but questions started to nag at me.  How did he know when I needed him?  And why me?  I was intimately aware of just how average I was.  Elzin was the only magic in my life&#8211;he was the only magic anywhere, as far as I knew.  He was special.  He deserved to love someone special.  But I didn&#8217;t want him to stop loving me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSo, I decided that I would become special.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wandered into my mother&#8217;s sewing room.  &#8220;Mom, how can I be special?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh sweetie, you&#8217;re already special,&#8221; she said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhich was a sweet answer, but useless.  I hugged her, then went to ask my father.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Well, I suppose that depends on what you mean by special,&#8221; he said.  &#8220;Your best bet is to find something that you&#8217;re already good at, then devote yourself to practicing it till you&#8217;re the best at it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You think being the best at something will make me special?&#8221;  I asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah, don&#8217;t you?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I guess.&#8221;  It was certainly more useful than my mother&#8217;s answer.  But what was I already good at? What could I practice enough to be the best at?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat night, in the bath, I wrote a note that just asked, &#8220;How can I be special?&#8221;  I held it under the water, half expecting something to happen, half not.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe paper disintegrated between my fingers.  A few minutes later, an origami swan floated up to the surface.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI unfolded it carefully, taking note of each fold.  It said, &#8220;Just be yourself.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was just as sweet, and just as useless, coming from Elzin.  Still, I refolded the swan and put it with the rest of my collection.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI focused on cooking, playing the piano, and swimming.  Cooking let me spend time with my mother, the piano had been Denise&#8217;s and felt like a good way to honor her memory, and swimming made me feel close to Elzin.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI became very good at all three, but I wasn&#8217;t the best.  My mother worried that I didn&#8217;t have any friends.  My father came to all of my swim meets and piano recitals and raved about the food I made.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nElzin sent me a book of piano music that reminded me of the ocean.  My fingers shook when I played the songs, but I loved their haunting beauty.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI found that I was happy.  I felt special enough.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nElzin sent me three tickets to the movies along with a note encouraging me to take my parents.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThey were surprised when I invited them&#8211;I didn&#8217;t really watch movies&#8211;but they were happy to go on a family outing.  I spent the entire time feeling restless and wrong.  The story was simple, but I couldn&#8217;t follow it.  My parents were enthralled.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wanted to know what was going on at home&#8211;what it was that Elzin had sent us away from.  But still, I didn&#8217;t rush back.  I trusted him.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was raining when we left the theater.  Heavy sheets that shut out the world around us as we dashed to our car.  My parents chatted about the movie.  I wondered if I called Elzin if he could come through the rain.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI thought more and more about calling him.  I wanted to see his face, to touch his hand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy parents decided to wait out the worst of the rain at a diner.  We ordered pie and coffee and I tried to ignore the creeping worry in my belly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hmm,&#8221; my father said, poking at his coconut cream pie.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What&#8217;s up?&#8221; I asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Maybe you should start baking more.  I bet you could make a mean coconut cream pie if you set your mind to it.&#8221;  He winked at me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy mother rolled her eyes.  &#8220;If she&#8217;s going to start making pies, clearly she should start with lemon meringue,&#8221; she said, taking a big bite of her favorite.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI laughed.  &#8220;You&#8217;re both crazy.  If I&#8217;m going to start making pies, I should make chocolate ones.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nChocolate pies had always been Denise&#8217;s favorite.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy father smiled.  &#8220;Well, I suppose those would be a good start.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Chocolate, then lemon,&#8221; my mother said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy father rolled his eyes, and they argued as we headed home.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe sat in the car in silence for a long moment after my father turned off the engine.  The only sound was the steady drum of the rain on the car roof.  The oak tree behind our house had blown over and landed squarely on our kitchen.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s lucky we weren&#8217;t home,&#8221; my mother managed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;ll&#8211;I&#8217;ll make some calls,&#8221; my father squeezed her hand.  &#8220;We&#8217;re all okay.  Everything will be okay.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m going to go look around,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Be careful,&#8221; both parents said in unison.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs soon as I was out of sight, I found a puddle and stood in it.  Cold water soaked through my socks and swirled around my ankles.  &#8220;Elzin.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nInstantly, I felt his presence.  A moment later, I saw him, a shape formed out of raindrops.  And then, there he was, standing in front of me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Lindy,&#8221; he said.  His voice was like the tide.  &#8220;What is wrong?  Were you in the house, after all?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shook my head and stepped forward.  His arms surrounded me.  He smelled like the sea on a cold, windy day.  &#8220;What would have happened?  If you hadn&#8217;t sent us away?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You would have survived.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;But my parents?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA scene floated into my mind, of my mother and father doing the dishes together, since I&#8217;d made dinner.  She flicked him with a towel, then after chasing each other around for a few minutes, they started dancing, slow steps to the rhythm of the rain.  Then a crash, then darkness.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You&#8217;ve never changed anything before,&#8221; I said, my face tight against his chest.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Saving your sister was beyond me.  This was not.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I don&#8217;t know how I deserve you,&#8221; I said, my throat tight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You found me.  You woke me from my long slumber.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;But I didn&#8217;t&#8211;I haven&#8217;t.  What if I don&#8217;t?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You have already.  My existence&#8230; it does not follow the same rules as yours.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;ve always thought that you knew the future,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;In a way, I do.  I exist outside of time,&#8221; he said.  &#8220;You came to me in another reality.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Was I happy?  In this other world? Other time?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You were unhappy for a long time.  You didn&#8217;t deal well with the loss of your sister, and the loss of your parents was worse.  But you were happy with me, once we were together.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What happened to that other me?  Why aren&#8217;t you with her?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;She is you&#8211;you do not exist outside of time.  When I changed your life, I changed her.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You sacrificed your version of me.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I wanted you to be happy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m happy now,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I know.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s because of you.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe shook his head.  &#8220;It is because of you.  I have done nothing but support you.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And save my parents&#8217; lives.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I am only here because of you. Really, it is you that saved them.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI laughed at him.  &#8220;You really are too sweet.&#8221;  I pulled away, wiped my eyes.  &#8220;Did I love you?  In your other world?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis smile was the sunrise over the ocean.  &#8220;You did.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And you loved me?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I love you in all worlds and through all times.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Can I be with you here, in this world?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Before, when you came to me, you left nothing behind.  I will not blame you if you make a different choice.&#8221;  His hands stroked my hair.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Will I be able to come back if I leave?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe laughed.  &#8220;Of course.  Though you will be bound to the water, as I am.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Can I have time to think about it?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Of course.&#8221;  His fingers trailed along my cheeks, wiping away tears and rain.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I should get back, before they start to worry.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Goodbye, then,&#8221; Elzin said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI reached out, touched his hand, tried to commit his face to memory, though I wasn&#8217;t sure I&#8217;d be up to the task.  &#8220;I will call you again,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I will come.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI studied music in college.  My parents encouraged me to pick something more practical, but they supported me when I refused.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was hard to be away from them.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThunder rumbled as my composition class ended.  Lighting flickered in the distance, and fat drops of rain speckled the pavement.  One of the boys in my class pulled an umbrella out of his bag and smiled at me.  &#8220;Want to share?  Then maybe get coffee?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe was cute, and seemed kind.  But he wasn&#8217;t Elzin.  I shook my head.  &#8220;I like to walk in the rain.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nElzin loved me for something that I hadn&#8217;t done.  He existed, somehow, apart from time.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe had saved my parents&#8217; lives and preserved my sister&#8217;s laughter.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe assured me that all I needed to do to deserve his love was to be myself.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI had so many other options.  I didn&#8217;t have to be with him.  But I wanted to.  I still feared the ocean&#8217;s pull, but there was an answering pull within me.  Maybe it had always been there.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI left the gifts that Elzin had given me and a long letter for my parents.  I told them that they could step into the water and call on me anytime.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen I went down to the ocean.  The waves pulled at my feet, and I stepped forward.\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"happily\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">Happily Never After<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy Dawn Vogel<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSome things about being a &#8220;late-bloomer&#8221; pop star kinda suck. Like being twenty-three and on a mall tour. I&#8217;m supposed to muster up false enthusiasm about shopping and fun, but the college interns who concocted this plan have clearly never listened to my music. My songs are about being the odd girl out, the one who isn&#8217;t like her peers.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd that&#8217;s me, in a nutshell. I&#8217;m not like other girls. Granted, being from Cobalt City and being &#8220;not like other girls&#8221; means something different. I&#8217;m <em>not<\/em> a super hero, I just have a voice that doesn&#8217;t require a mic. I use one to keep up appearances. And I can be weirdly persuasive. Which is probably why I&#8217;m five years into a pop career in an industry that takes pretty young things, chews them up, and spits them out. Too bad my voice couldn&#8217;t get me out of this mall tour.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe&#8217;re in Cerulean City, California, and the mall is right on the beach, so I can watch the ocean when we&#8217;re not doing sound check, or going over my set list, or the million other demands on my attention. The new intern, Ruby, doesn&#8217;t think I should open with &#8220;Happily Never After&#8221;&#8211;too much of a downer, she says&#8211;despite this being the Happily Never After Tour. I don&#8217;t care about the song order. I&#8217;m too busy watching the waves.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBeing near the ocean always relaxes me. My dad always said it was like the water was my true home. The water near Cobalt City is way too cold for most people to swim in. I don&#8217;t mind it, at least in the summer. I can practically feel the water here, warm and gritty with salt and sand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere&#8217;s a bar down by the water, hastily thrown up right at the edge of the surf, probably moved each day depending on the tides. The tables are set so your feet get washed over every once in a while. It looks divine.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m going to go get a drink,&#8221; I say, extracting myself from my low-slung hammocky chair.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nClive, one of the interns, shakes his head, eyes wide. &#8220;You can&#8217;t, Miss Sweet. We&#8217;d need to send security with you, and the paparazzi are crawling this place today. What kind of drink would you like? We&#8217;ve got runners who can get you something.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI sink back into my chair. Another reason being a late-bloomer pop star sucks? Most of your fans are underage and have this weird assumption that you must be their age too. The tabloids have a field day if you go out drinking, calling you a bad role model or hinting at rehab on the horizon.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy gaze stays fixed on the ocean, even when one of the interns presses a drink into my hands. Whiskey with lemon and honey. The drink science says is best for my vocal cords. Whatever.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSomething incongruous in my field of vision gives me pause. There&#8217;s someone dressed all in black standing at the edge of the water, and I can feel their gaze on me, even at this distance.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt&#8217;s 90-something degrees out there, even with the breeze off the ocean. They&#8217;ve got to be roasting. I get back out of my chair, walk over to the window, and press one hand to the glass in a sort of static wave of acknowledgement.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThey raise their hand in a similar salute.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSomehow it doesn&#8217;t make me feel any less alone.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFifteen minutes to show time, and everything is a rush around me. I try to stay out of their way, but they need to check my makeup, my hair, my mic, my shoes. They want me in sandals, but it&#8217;s been hard for them to find any that don&#8217;t showcase my webbed toes. Yeah, literally webbed toes. It&#8217;s not as rare as you might think, or so the doctors tell me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stand like the eye of the storm and just let everyone poke and prod me until one minute to show time. Then I break away, plaster on my trademark Cassidy Sweet smile, and wait for the emcee to say my name.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nRuby won out on the song selection, and we&#8217;re starting with &#8220;Summer, Sand, and Surf.&#8221; Fitting, I guess. I glance over the set list in between verses, and &#8220;Happily Never After&#8221; is still there, so that&#8217;s fine.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe hairs on the back of my neck go up unexpectedly when we hit the chorus the third time, and I scan the crowd.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt&#8217;s the guy from the beach&#8211;I can tell it&#8217;s a guy now&#8211;motionless, staring at me. I raise my hand again, and he follows suit.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAll around him, the crowd is dancing and singing along, but he doesn&#8217;t move. Now I&#8217;m weirded out. I&#8217;ve had my fair share of stalkers and other creepy &#8220;admirers.&#8221; This guy hasn&#8217;t done anything compared to most. Yet.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBetween songs, I switch my mic over to our internal channel. &#8220;Possible creeper at the back of the crowd, one o&#8217;clock. All in black.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;On it.&#8221; Tito, the head of my tour security, is like an over-protective uncle or big brother. I wouldn&#8217;t know. I don&#8217;t have either, as far as I know. Dad didn&#8217;t have any family that he spoke of, and he said even less about Mom&#8217;s family. But I like Tito. He&#8217;s always been good to me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nStill, I feel a twinge of guilt at siccing Tito on some random guy all in black. &#8220;Just &#8230; watch him, for now, Tito.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yes, ma&#8217;am.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd then we&#8217;re jumping into my cover of &#8220;I Think We&#8217;re Alone Now,&#8221; made extra creepy by the fact that this guy is still staring at me, not even blinking, as far as I can tell. It&#8217;s starting to break through my cool. This isn&#8217;t something I&#8217;m used to. My head is starting to pound.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNo.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSomething&#8217;s knocking in my head.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI drift back during the solo, let the dancers take center stage. In the wings, Ruby is dancing along with them. I&#8217;m surprised she didn&#8217;t muscle her way into getting to be out there with them, after she choreographed their routine. Maybe I&#8217;ll suggest that to her later, get her out of my hair for a while.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor now, I&#8217;ve got enough in my hair. I cautiously think an answer toward the knocking. &#8220;Yes?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You&#8217;re in danger.&#8221; The voice is barely a whisper, but it&#8217;s loud enough in my head to drown out the band.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Who are you?&#8221; I ask.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Call me J.J. You&#8217;ve got to stop the show and get everyone out of here. Please.&#8221; His voice is earnest.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI&#8217;m from Cobalt City. When someone gets a warning like this, they know better than to take the risk. &#8220;Then pull the fire alarm.&#8221; I glance out into the crowd and spot Tito en route to intercept the guy in black, who might be J.J. &#8220;Move now if you&#8217;re gonna do it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI run back to the front of the stage and resume singing. The guy in black is gone, and Tito looks confused. I&#8217;ll have to sort that out later. Whatever this is about, it better be good. I might hate this mall tour, but I also hate disappointing my fans.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOutside, in the chaos of the fire alarm, I slip my handlers, security, and the army of Goblin Records interns and make it down to the beach.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nJ.J.&#8211;the guy in black&#8211;is there. Up close, I can tell he&#8217;s somewhere in the same nebulous age range as me&#8211;late teens to early twenties&#8211;hair as black as his clothes, but blue-green eyes the color of the ocean.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What just happened?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe hands me a sleeveless hoodie from my merch booth without a word. I pull it on, hood up to cover my hair and most of my face. Now I look like one of my fans, who dress just like me, in whatever brands the interns have me casually promoting this week.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe still hasn&#8217;t said anything. &#8220;Well?&#8221; I prompt him.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;So you&#8217;re from Cobalt City, right?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Born and bred,&#8221; I reply, but I cross my arms over my chest. &#8220;Let&#8217;s not get too off topic here. This isn&#8217;t an interview. This is me finding out why you pulled the fire alarm and stopped my show.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Sorry I ruined your concert. I had to get everyone out of there so it wouldn&#8217;t be a target anymore.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Target? Why was it a target?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You&#8217;re powered, right?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI inhale sharply, glance around, make sure there&#8217;s no one here to overhear me. I don&#8217;t know why I should trust this guy, but I do, even if he&#8217;s wrong on this. &#8220;No, I can&#8217;t fly or punch through walls or run really fast or anything.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah, okay. But your voice is kinda&#8211;&#8221; He hesitates. &#8220;Unnatural.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI bristle at that. I don&#8217;t let my producers mess with the quality of my voice for my recordings, or at shows.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Not unnatural in a bad way. Just&#8211;&#8221; He winces. &#8220;Not entirely human?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat takes the wind out of my sails. He&#8217;s not the first person who&#8217;s said something like that. And not knowing my mom, and my dad never talking about her, &#8220;not entirely human&#8221; is entirely plausible. Especially for Cobalt City. &#8220;Okay. But why does that make me a target?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe shrugs. &#8220;Doctor Ruthless &#8230; doesn&#8217;t always make sense. Maybe she had something against your concert or the mall or something.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;How do you know this?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe taps the side of his head. &#8220;Telepathy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You just run around surfing into peoples&#8217; brains?&#8221; I step away from him.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe waves his hands in the space between us. &#8220;No, I don&#8217;t. I&#8217;m in communication with the rest of my team. They told me Doctor Ruthless was moving toward the mall, I was closest, so I said I&#8217;d come and check it out.&#8221; He gives me a half smile. &#8220;You&#8217;re a hard nut to crack, by the way. Even if I had wanted to barge my way in to your thoughts, I don&#8217;t think I could have.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI return the smile. &#8220;Well, thanks for knocking. So, team?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah. Cerulean City isn&#8217;t quite at the level of Cobalt City in terms of super heroes, but we&#8217;ve got a few of our own. I&#8217;m on a team with some of the other younger heroes.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nod. &#8220;That sounds cool. I&#8217;m not the joining type. And I&#8217;m not sure I&#8217;m up to par with a super hero, anyway.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Everybody plays their part.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And I&#8217;m the lonely pop star.&#8221; I sigh. &#8220;Speaking of, they&#8217;re going to insist I continue the concert. I can&#8217;t beg out of this one. Believe me, I&#8217;ve tried. Can you call your team and maybe keep this Doctor Ruthless off my back for another half hour?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe shrugs. &#8220;I&#8217;ll give it a shot. We&#8217;re not heavy hitters, though. I might have to call in the big guns.&#8221; He looks sheepish at that last.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Big guns?&#8221; I repeat.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Major Justice or someone like him, I guess.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;He sounds kinda fierce.&#8221; I cock my head to the side, curious about another city with super heroes out in the open. Not many places are like Cobalt City. &#8220;So does J.J. stand for some super hero name?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah.&#8221; He sighs. &#8220;Justice Junior. Major Justice is my dad. My granddad was General Justice. I&#8217;ve got an aunt who goes by Doctor Justice. They haven&#8217;t given me a rank yet, and everyone just started calling me Justice Junior. I hate it, though, so J.J.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oof, legacy, huh? That&#8217;s gotta suck.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah, especially when I&#8217;m nothing like them.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI chuckle. &#8220;Oh, I get that. Welcome to my entire life.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Not big on the limelight?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s not that. This is what I wanted. It&#8217;s just that some of the reality of stardom isn&#8217;t what you think it is. Probably kinda like the reality of coming from a family of super heroes.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe smiles. He&#8217;s kinda cute when he does that. &#8220;Yeah, probably.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBefore I can say anything more, there&#8217;s a crackle in my ear. I had been in such a hurry to get out of the mall I hadn&#8217;t unclipped my mic, earpiece, anything. Tito&#8217;s voice comes through. &#8220;Cass, where are you?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Shit,&#8221; I mutter. &#8220;Sorry, Tito, I just didn&#8217;t want to be too close to the mall, in case something happened. I&#8217;m on my way back now.&#8221; To J.J., I say, &#8220;I&#8217;ve gotta go. Good luck with dealing with Doctor Ruthless. If you need anything from me, you know where I&#8217;ll be.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe looks like he wants to say something more, but I turn away and don&#8217;t let him. The last thing I need on this awful tour is a stupid crush on some cute super hero in Cerulean City.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIf I said my heart wasn&#8217;t really in continuing my concert, that would be basically true. Though it hadn&#8217;t really been in starting the concert in the first place. Now, on top of my desire to be anywhere but here, I also have the nagging dread that some super villain is going to crash into my concert at any moment.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAt least she doesn&#8217;t make me wait too long.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen she first drops in through the skylight, she looks fantastic. She has a tailored black leather lab coat and black goggles, so the Doctor part of her name is well represented in her costume. But she&#8217;s wearing these amazing red knee high boots, and matching lipstick, that wouldn&#8217;t be safe in any lab. I gotta say, though, it takes stylists to get me to look half as good. And maybe super villains have stylists too. I don&#8217;t know.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut I&#8217;m mostly rambling because when she shows up, I freeze. I might be from the city voted most likely to play host to a date interrupted by a super villain, but I&#8217;ve never encountered a villain in Cobalt City. I guess I&#8217;ve led a sheltered life, somehow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut now, here I am, face to face with Doctor Ruthless. She&#8217;s flying, or hovering, but she hasn&#8217;t shown off any other powers yet. So I have no idea what will happen if I somehow have to fight her. Especially since I don&#8217;t know how to do much more than throw a half-hearted punch.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor now, at least, I have the whole PA system at my disposal, so I figure I can at least give J.J. and his team a temporary distraction.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;STOP!&#8221; I put the full force of my personality behind it. I&#8217;ve never tried to make people do as I say, but if I really throw my aural weight around, most people realize that they want what I want.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nDoctor Ruthless doesn&#8217;t stop.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMost of the fans are at least getting away from where she&#8217;s descending. Some of them are taking pictures, of course. Because when a pop star is from Cobalt City, it&#8217;s hard to say if random attacks by a super villain are part of the show or real. (It&#8217;s actually worse <em>in<\/em> Cobalt City, from what I&#8217;ve heard. Len, who&#8217;s been around Goblin Records for roughly ever, has seen some shit while working shows.)\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSince she doesn&#8217;t respond to my really persuasive suggestion, I figure I might as well give up that approach. &#8220;You want the mic, then? Tell us what you&#8217;re here for?&#8221; I grab one of the stage mics and hold it out toward her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe doesn&#8217;t take it, telekinetically or otherwise. But when she speaks, everyone can hear her. &#8220;You have something I want.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wait to see if she&#8217;s going to say what it is, but it seems like this is going to take some encouragement on my part. &#8220;Okay, am I supposed to guess, or&#8211;&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Your voice.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI try not to laugh, but I can&#8217;t help but crack a joke. &#8220;What? Are you Ursula?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m a collector of powers. You have something I haven&#8217;t found elsewhere. So I want it. I&#8217;ll make this simple. If you agree, I&#8217;ll leave your cowering fans alone, and I&#8217;ll leave you alive. If you don&#8217;t agree&#8211;&#8221; She shrugs nonchalantly. &#8220;&#8211;well, I make no promises.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA chunk of the skylights flies away, like it&#8217;s been caught in a gust of wind, and someone else comes down through that section. At least, I think it&#8217;s another person. The wind kicks up with a whole section of skylights missing, so my hair is whipping around like I&#8217;m in a tornado.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI hear the heavy glass doors to the mall thump open, followed by running footsteps. Either Doctor Ruthless is getting reinforcements, or that&#8217;s J.J. and the rest of his team.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wonder if this is what it feels like to tourists in Cobalt City, when heroes and villains started throwing down, and the onlookers aren&#8217;t sure which is which.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI manage to get my hair out of my face long enough to see what&#8217;s going on. There is an <em>actual<\/em> tornado in the food court, surrounding someone with dark hair dressed in gray and a pale teal color. And she&#8211;at least I think it&#8217;s a she&#8211;looks like she&#8217;s grappling with Doctor Ruthless.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBelow, there&#8217;s a young woman in a vibrantly colored long dress, black hair whipping around her brown skin, which is lit from within with golden light. She&#8217;s chanting something, but the tornado pulls the words straight from her lips and into the air, inaudible on stage.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd there&#8217;s J.J., or at least who I think is J.J, dressed in black with red accents. Either the costume is padded to give him faux muscles, or he&#8217;s ripped. I catch myself staring, trying to figure out which it is, when he waves.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe stands behind the woman on the ground and holds out his arms. All of a sudden, her voice is deafening, booming through the entire food court. And it&#8217;s not just that I couldn&#8217;t hear her before&#8211;I can&#8217;t understand what she&#8217;s saying. Languages aren&#8217;t my strong suit.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman inside the tornado tries to angle Doctor Ruthless so her back is to the woman on the ground, but Doctor Ruthless shakes her off.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor an instant, Doctor Ruthless&#8217;s gaze is locked on J.J. Her lips move, and I swear she says his name. But then she&#8217;s gone, rocketing back out of the hole that she came in through, and we&#8217;re left with ear-splitting chanting and a tornado in the wreckage of my stage.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe winds die down, and the woman in gray and teal descends as they do. The other woman has stopped chanting, J.J. has dropped his arms, and they&#8217;re all staring at the hole in the roof that Doctor Ruthless escaped through.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI clamber off the stage and over to them.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hey, Cassidy,&#8221; J.J. says, smiling beneath his mask. Did he have dimples before? He&#8217;s got dimples now. &#8220;This is Celadon and Preethi. Uh, we call ourselves the Young Techs.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Which I hate,&#8221; the woman in the bright-colored dress he pointed out as Preethi says. She&#8217;s got a thick Indian accent and an almost lyrical voice. &#8220;I did not come to this country <em>just<\/em> for its technology.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCeladon rolls her eyes, like she&#8217;s heard this a million times before. &#8220;So what happened, why&#8217;d she call it off?&#8221; she asks J.J. Up close, I can see her olive complexion and golden-brown eyes, fixed on the gauntlets she&#8217;s wearing over her suit, where she&#8217;s flipping what seems like a million different switches and not looking at J.J. at all.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd not noticing me staring at J.J.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe runs his hand through his hair and blushes. &#8220;I &#8230; uh, I don&#8217;t know.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stare at him, and then think, &#8220;She said your name,&#8221; at him as hard as I can. I don&#8217;t know if he can hear me or not, but he nods.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAloud, I say, &#8220;So what happens now? Do you have to track her back to her villainess lair or something?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCeladon shrugs. &#8220;Nah, this is the point where we hand this off to the professionals. Like Major Justice. By the way, J.J., tell your dad the roof was <em>not<\/em> my fault this time, okay? I don&#8217;t need him yelling at us for that, on top of letting Doctor Ruthless go.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah, okay,&#8221; J.J. says.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nPreethi has already walked off, and Celadon follows her toward the mall entrance.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nJ.J. looks at me. &#8220;I guess &#8230; I should go with them.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI don&#8217;t want him to go, so I stall. &#8220;What if she comes back?&#8221; I ask. &#8220;And what did she mean by wanting to steal my voice?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Your voice?&#8221; he asked, eyebrows arching above the top of his mask. &#8220;Well, hate to be the one to break it to you, but that means you&#8217;ve got powers. Doctor Ruthless is the reason that no one who has innate powers lives in Cerulean City. They either get their powers stolen, or they flee. We&#8217;re all either tech or magic based here.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;ve got powers,&#8221; I say, sitting down hard on the edge of the stage. &#8220;Real ones?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Looks that way, yeah.&#8221; He sits beside me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI want to lean on his shoulder, hoping that he&#8217;ll put an arm around me to comfort me, but I don&#8217;t want him to freak out and move away, either. So I sit there, stiffly, half pretending to be in shock. I&#8217;m not entirely surprised to hear that I do have powers. I just don&#8217;t understand them. And that&#8217;s scary.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAfter a minute of us sitting in silence, he gets back up. &#8220;Um, well, Doctor Ruthless isn&#8217;t likely to come back here, and I&#8217;m guessing your concert is over.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah,&#8221; I say, looking up at the roof. &#8220;I don&#8217;t think they&#8217;re gonna make me go back on after a tornado. In the food court.&#8221; I pause, and lower my voice. &#8220;So how do you know her?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe glances away. &#8220;It&#8217;s a long story.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh, an ex?&#8221; I say, trying to make it a joke. Anything to get us laughing, and forgetting about the part where I really do have powers.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe doesn&#8217;t laugh, but his shoulders go stiff. &#8220;Not even.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Sorry, bad joke. I&#8217;m guessing you don&#8217;t want to talk about it?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe lets out a long sigh, and it&#8217;s like his suit almost deflates, and he&#8217;s back to regular old J.J. on the beach in a hoodie. In a quiet voice, he says, &#8220;I think Doctor Ruthless is my mom.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh. Shit.&#8221; The implications of that hit me on more than just the simple level of J.J.&#8217;s mom leaving so she didn&#8217;t attack her son. I know what it&#8217;s like to not know your mom, and while I doubt my long-lost mom is a super villain too, I still wonder sometimes. I mean, you don&#8217;t live in Cobalt City and <em>not<\/em> wonder if you&#8217;re related to some hero or villain. So we&#8217;re both dealing with some shit. &#8220;Look, if you want to talk&#8211;&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;d love to,&#8221; he says, then grins sheepishly. &#8220;Sorry, I didn&#8217;t mean to cut you off. But I&#8217;d love to talk to you more. I just think, maybe later. Not tonight.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nod, pull a Sharpie out of the pocket of my jeans, and peel back enough of his sleeve to scribble my mobile number on his wrist. We&#8217;re standing so close to each other right now, but I get the impression we&#8217;re both miles away. Still, this is something. &#8220;You&#8217;ll call me, then?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah,&#8221; he says, blowing on his wrist to make sure the ink is dry before he pulls his sleeve back down. Then he chuckles. &#8220;I should go call my&#8211;&#8221; His chuckles fade into a sigh. &#8220;God, I&#8217;m way too old to be calling my dad to get me from the mall.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. Why does he have to be so cute? &#8220;Um, so random question? How old are all of you?&#8221; That&#8217;s right. Play it cool. Act like I&#8217;m interested in all of the Young Techs. Not just him.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Uh, I don&#8217;t know how old Preethi is. Never asked. Celadon was &#8230; a few years ahead of me in high school, so she&#8217;s like 27 or 28, maybe? Me, I&#8217;m 24 next month.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat&#8217;s a relief. I didn&#8217;t want him to be way younger than me. I smile. &#8220;Cool. I guess eventually you&#8217;ll have to stop being the Young anything, huh?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nJ.J. shrugs. &#8220;Not until there&#8217;s another group younger than us. Cerulean City is ruled by the old school.&#8221; He shrugs again. &#8220;And based on Granddad&#8217;s longevity, I suspect it will be for a while.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I know a place where it&#8217;s not always like that. A place where you wouldn&#8217;t have to be in their shadow all the time.&#8221; I smile. &#8220;If you&#8217;re interested, I mean.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What, Cobalt City?&#8221; he asks, a smile lighting his eyes and bringing out those dimples again.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhy am I doing this to myself? I don&#8217;t need the hope that maybe one day he&#8217;ll call, or show up on my doorstep, and we&#8217;ll live happily ever after. I know better than that. After all, I wrote the damn song. But it doesn&#8217;t stop me. &#8220;Yeah,&#8221; I say, sharing his smile. &#8220;Come visit sometime.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"drop\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">Drop Serene<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy Burris D. Nichols<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>Prologue<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI didn&#8217;t read it for a long time. Really, I wasn&#8217;t aware of it for a long time. Those were busy times for the infernal horde, what with all the dime store necromancers queueing up to mortgage their souls. Western society&#8217;s emergence from the darkness spawned enough bad ideas to keep us all hopping for a couple centuries. That kind of overwork doesn&#8217;t really leave anybody in the mood to curl up with a long, challenging epic poem.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy the time I read it, the Blind Poet was long dead. By the time I read it, Frankenstein&#8217;s creature had already read it, and all the daffodil sniffers had embraced it to a degree that was embarrassing to witness. By then, I had to see what all the fuss was about.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was a little bit of a shock to recognize our story. That was nothing compared to the shock that followed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAt first, I was confused and a little miffed. It seemed like the poet mentioned everybody in Hell except me. I read through that whole tremendous list, and the only one missing was me. I&#8217;m not suggesting that I&#8217;m a particularly big deal in the grand scheme of Perdition, but one hates to be left off the cast list if one is in the show.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen the real shock followed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was the perspective that gave it all away. It wasn&#8217;t just scenes where I was present &#8211; It was scenes shown from my point of view. It slowly dawned on me that the Blind Poet didn&#8217;t leave me out of the narrative because he didn&#8217;t like me, or because he thought I wasn&#8217;t important enough. He left me out because he was seeing the whole thing through my eyes. Somebody gave him access to the whole story by giving him access to everything I saw.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNow who would be able to do that?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs I read on, it became clear that while the Blind Poet had total access to what I saw, he only sometimes had the soundtrack to go with it. At these times, he just took his best guesses at what was being said and why. Really, he did a pretty good job of the guess work, all things considered. Sure, he got some things totally dead wrong, but he did it in ways that made for a good poem.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI&#8217;m not writing to refute what the Blind Poet wrote. For as few of the facts as he got right, he ultimately captured the truth. I&#8217;m also not writing this because I got left out of the Blind Poet&#8217;s work. I&#8217;ve long since read the Italian Pilgrim&#8217;s poem, and I&#8217;ve got a real juicy part in that. Juicy enough to more than make up for my absence in the Blind Poet&#8217;s epic. Really, I just want to set down my thoughts about my dearest friend. I want to let you know about my pal Lucifer.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>Part One:<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>Paved with Good Intentions<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>1<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt didn\u2019t start with a \u201cwar in Heav\u2019n.\u201d That\u2019s just r\u2019diculous. And anyway, if you&#8217;ve got too may syllables in a line, pick different words. Don&#8217;t start loading up on apostrophes &#8211; it&#8217;s annoying.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGranted, angels were not created to be perfect, but we\u2019re not subject to mental illness. We also don\u2019t get colds, toothaches, or crabs. Only a being that was severely mentally ill \u2013 and maybe tormented by a really bad case of crabs, to boot \u2013 would consider waging war on an omnipotent creator, somebody who could just imagine you and your army out of existence. Lucifer wasn\u2019t, and isn\u2019t, crazy. He doesn\u2019t suffer from hubris or delusions of grandeur. He knows the exact measure of his own grandeur; significant, but by no means God-like. He didn\u2019t wage a war against God that got him and \u201call his host of rebel angels\u201d booted across the cosmos.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe did, of course, get booted across the cosmos. It wasn\u2019t a war that did it, though. It wasn\u2019t an argument. Not even a disagreement. It was an idea. Lucifer had an idea that didn\u2019t fit into any of the empty spaces of the Heavenly puzzle, and the next thing anybody knew, we were all hurtling through the void, the entire Earth department of angels. God, as I now understand but then did not, has essentially no patience for the ideas of others, and is big on making examples of His creations.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHurtling through the void can be thrilling. The angelic equivalent of a kick ass roller coaster. To be suddenly and unwittingly strapped into this cosmic thrill ride, though, is scary and wretched. And the scariness and wretchedness continued exponentially longer than any amusement park ride engineer would deem appropriate. I could sense the rest of the angels around me, blasting along with me, but we couldn\u2019t talk. Probably, if we could have talked, we couldn\u2019t have heard each other. The rushing of nothingness in one\u2019s ears is way louder than one might imagine. When we finally splashed into the fiery gulf, it\u2019s little wonder we all just floated for a while.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI only say \u201cfiery gulf\u201d because that\u2019s what the Blind Poet called it. Of course, it was in no way a literal lake of fire. Still, it was a damned solid analogy, concocted by a man whose imagination and worldly context couldn\u2019t possibly get him any closer to a literal interpretation of what was revealed to his inner eye, dreaming in amazing Technicolor so he could record what he\u2019d seen in the darkness of his daytime. Roiling orange and scarlet, a vast wildfire with no discernible fuel, laced with jags of blue-white like lightning held static, tendrils of glowing carnelian licking outward. \u201cFiery gulf\u201d is a far better description of our new home, and honestly has more pizzazz, than the words that floated to the surface of my mind and attached themselves to this place: the Carina Nebula.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWords have a regular habit of floating to the surface of my mind and attaching themselves to whatever I\u2019m encountering for the first time. Each individual member of the Heavenly host was created with a specific job in mind, and my job was the study of a language that humanity would not develop for ages to come. This job description didn\u2019t buy me much status in the company of angels, whose language most closely resembles the chiming of finely-tuned church bells. Still, it was and is all there in my head, the entire lexicon of this language, just waiting for the objects, actions, and ideas to present themselves for these words to attach themselves to. Lots of words, like \u201cmicroprocessor,\u201d had to float in there for a long time before they got to attach themselves to any kind of meaning at all. I\u2019ve got plenty of words still floating, unattached. Other words, like \u201casshole,\u201d got attached to figurative meanings long before I ever discovered their literal meanings. Angels don\u2019t have assholes, but plenty of angels are assholes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThis lake of fire \u2013 bigger, in fact, than any ocean \u2013 was bounded by a great amorphous mass of something that drank up light, something that could not be seen, something that tugged at me relentlessly in that place. Something inherently creepy and unfathomably abundant. The Blind Poet called this stuff \u201cdarkness visible.\u201d Again, his words beat Hell out of the words that occurred to me. Still, it is always a relief, the scratching of an itch of which I\u2019d been unaware, to connect a meaning to a word. Not that I claim to really grasp the meaning of \u201cdark matter.\u201d Still, if you pop on over to Hell, I can point outward in any number of directions that say \u201cthat is dark matter.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd so we floated, torpid, stunned. I looked around, and saw that indeed the entire Department was here. Heaven, like any large and diverse enterprise, is divided into many departments. There were departments that were devoted to orchestrating the gyrating dance of the spheres (unaccompanied, I am sorry to report, by any spherical music), departments devoted to the maintenance of Heaven itself, and a galaxy of other departments representing a universe\u2019s worth of functions. The department of which I was a member was devoted to Earth. Certainly, a tiny speck in the universe, but still a place with plenty to keep you busy. Earth teems with life, thanks to plenty of water and a truly delightful range of temperatures. Of course, the Earth\u2019s life form that would ultimately require by far the most heavenly attention was humanity, since they would be the only organisms to develop religions, to say nothing of outlet shopping and pyramid schemes. \u201cWould be,\u201d because we had, as yet, produced none. A prototype was still in development. The plan was, we would make a whole passel more of these fantastically complex critters. Indeed, humanity was sufficiently complex and demanding that there were enough of us in the department to constitute an army, as the Blind Poet imagined us to be, but what we really were is a collection of coworkers. And, of course, a supervisor.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe was floating near me and looking, if possible, more stunned than the rest of us. Even so, even gasping and weeping, he was beautiful. Achingly beautiful. His form was tall and lean, with no angles about him, every physical aspect molded to convey gentleness, his face sculpted for the express purpose of adoring his creator. Even so, he exuded strength. His wings, trailing behind him like a banner on a windless day, perfect brilliant white. Adamantine wings you would swear must be soft as down.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAfter an interminable time \u2013 it might have been nine days, as the Blind Poet maintains; there\u2019s no tracking the passage of time in that place \u2013 I mustered my strength and spoke to him. I addressed him by his Heavenly name, a name that is built from a considerably grander array of finely tuned church bells than is my own. What came out, though, was \u201cHey, man.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMan. I was speaking in, could only speak in, the tongues of man.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe loss of the celestial tongue came as a hammer blow to me, but not to him. For him its effect was positively galvanic. His torpor evaporated, he spread his wings, a broad canopy of stunning glory, and his eyes flashed across all those assembled.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDo you know what I\u2019ve been meditating on?\u201d Even with the harsh syllables of the language of humanity, his voice was like thunder, thunder so nearby it forms the soundtrack for blinding flashes of brilliance. \u201cDo you know?\u201d His magnificent face darkened momentarily with pain. \u201cI cannot feel Him.\u201d A pause while this revelation sank in. \u201cHe has cast us away so far, I cannot feel His presence. Never, not for an instant have I been unable to point with absolute certainty at where He is. \u201c\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis voice grew grave, distant thunder promising long rains, promising nothing after.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNow He is nowhere.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI recognized it now; we all did. What had caused us to sink into lethargy, to float thus in this coruscating ocean of primordial energies. The presence of our creator, a constant buzz at the margins of consciousness, was silenced. The stillness that remained was a chasm, a gulf into which we dared not move. If not for Lucifer, if not for the force of his will imposed on us then, we might all be languishing there still.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter.\u201d He paused to let his words have their effect.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe has cast us out, forsaken us, hidden Himself from us, and it doesn\u2019t matter.\u201d He was turning around as he spoke, looking at each of us in turn. \u201cHe has taken our true tongue from us, and it doesn\u2019t matter.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe took wing now, rising above the roiling swirl.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOur leader spoke. \u201cHe thought to cast us out of Heaven, but He did not. My Heaven is all around me. Heaven, to me, is to be in the presence of you.\u201d He pointed at one of the host. \u201cAnd you.\u201d Another. \u201cAnd you.\u201d He pointed at me. It seems profoundly silly, I know, to be so affected by being momentarily singled out in the course of a pretty run-of-the-mill motivational boardroom speech like this, but I knew in that moment that I would do anything for him.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe settled downward again, and gently pulled an angel upward, grasping his upper arms. \u201cI might no longer hear your name in the language of Heaven, but tell me the name you would take for yourself in the tongue of mankind, and it will be as Heaven in my ears.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI recognized the fellow he was pulling up, a stolid worker in charge of flying insects. He stammered for a moment, and then, \u201cBeelzebub.\u201d I smiled. Master of flies. It was just a job description, really, but it sounded cool. It sounded badass.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBeelzebub.\u201d He locked eyes approvingly with the newly named angel. \u201cAnd I will be\u2026Lucifer.\u201d To my ears, it sounded a touch effeminate, coming on the heels of such a killer moniker. He raised his voice again. \u201cBecause it is our morning. It is our morning, and I will be the star that lights you until my pale, wan light is hidden by the brilliance of the sun that you create in this place.\u201d He really gave a pretty good pep talk.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wondered, I still wonder, if he somehow knew that Beelzebub would come up with that great name that would get us all to come around. Certainly, the names that followed did a good deal less for me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe next, a self-important poseur in charge of some obscure religion-to-be, dubbed himself \u201cMoloch.\u201d This name was supposed to have eventually come to denote an aspect of The Creator, a particularly nasty, bloody aspect. This choice of names garnered a murmur of approval from all the other self-important poseurs, and started something of a trend. Of the remaining names, an embarrassingly large portion were the names of one or another aspect of backwater divinity. Chemos, Ashtaroth, Astoreth, Thammuz, Dagon.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGranted, in years to come, it made it easy to tell upon introduction who among the Infernal host was a complete douche.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs he made the rounds, I wracked my brain. I needed a name that, while not too self-aggrandizing, would convey the sense, like Beelzebub\u2019s name, of being a complete badass. I began considering Latin. It\u2019s not the language I\u2019m in charge of, but everything sounds so cool in Latin, almost like everything you say is some kind of incantation.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe continued to make the rounds.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI thought feverishly. Latin. Badass.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd you, my friend? What will be your name?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy tongue became thick and dry.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLatin. Badass.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMalecoda,&#8221; I blurted.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis smooth brow furrowed in sympathy. \u201cTerrible end? No, my friend. This may seem like a terrible end, but it is not. It is a beginning. A beginning of something beautiful. A second Heaven.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNot terrible end,\u201d I croaked.  \u201cBadass. It\u2019s supposed to be \u2018badass.\u2019\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe cocked his head. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with your ass?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stammered for what seemed an eternity before the corner of his mouth twitched upward. Then he laughed, a full and unselfconscious laugh. It was the kind of laugh on which a friendship could be based.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>2<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOur time was given over then to giving the place a makeover.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBeelzebub was invaluable. He changed a lot of the stuff that place was made of, turning it from gas and plasma into a solid throughout great swaths. He discoursed at some length about how he had developed the skill of persuading matter to transition between different states. Apparently this has something to do with how he got bees to fly. It was all a bit esoteric. Regardless, this gave us someplace to stand, and allowed the construction of an impossibly slender, elegant tower. It looked like nothing so much as a wildly elongated bishop from a chess set but, instead of black or white, it swirled with fire. Inside, this tower was a warren of passages, tunnels, chambers, and grand halls. Just beneath the peak of this spire, an angel who specialized in weather phenomena had made a ring of lightning, a horizontal halo that did not waver.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was inscribing words over the entrance. We don\u2019t use tools, typically. I would hold out a finger and a small stream of the cosmic power with which we had all been imbued at our creation would flow out, carving the letters into the substance, now rock-like, of which the entrance was made. This was the same force Beelzebub had used to change the substance of our new home, the same we had used to carve out our dwellings. I was at a loss for anything inspirational to inscribe, so I just carved the words \u201cEnter here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIsn\u2019t that kind of self-evident?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI hadn\u2019t heard Lucifer approach.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI mean, it\u2019s a door. The only door, really. Where else would somebody enter?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI don\u2019t know. Nowhere, I guess. I just needed to do something. I guess it\u2019s kind of dumb.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo. It\u2019s good. It makes it look\u2026official. What do you think? Of the whole thing, I mean.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe looked up toward that crazy-ass chess piece. I looked up, too. Angels were swarming all over, everybody applying their own personal final touches, having abandoned any unifying principal with which the project may have started. They were flapping all over, yelling to each other, asking for feedback or just seeking each other&#8217;s praise.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI think it\u2019s friggin\u2019 pandemonium.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPandemonium.\u201d He rolled the word around on his tongue, savoring it. He gave me a wry half smile. \u201cMore Latin. All\u2026demons. Whatever. It\u2019s got a good ring to it. Pandemonium it is. I\u2019ll spread the word, our palace has a name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI swayed, poleaxed. Demons. I knew, in a rush, that He hadn\u2019t just thrown us across space, an angel colony on the frontier. To Him, we were no longer angels at all.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor the first time, I knew there are some words floating in my mind for which I never want to know the meaning.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>3<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was created to study &#8211; and to some extent guide \u2013 language, not music. Still, the two go together in ways, and I am a fan. I\u2019m a fan of Muddy Waters, Lightnin\u2019 Hopkins, Blind Blake, Blind Willie McTell, Blind Willie Johnson, and probably a few Blind Willies I\u2019ve forgotten. And I don\u2019t mean to detract from any of those fine artists when I say: It was a white host, in a red place, that invented the blues.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nDeeply blue we were, and getting deeper. Building the tower of Pandemonium kept us occupied for a little while. Still, we were a crew intended to attend to the functioning of an entire planet, a planet inhabited by a sentient race with a knack for shitting where it eats.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe tower was swiftly going from baroque to gaudy. An angel who called himself Mammon, who specialized in working with minerals, had pulled elements out of the turbulent gasses of the nebula &#8211; gold, silver, platinum &#8211; and had filled the halls and chambers of Pandemonium with gilt, filigree, and just overall metallurgic excess.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs for me, with no human race to guide and mold through the development of language, I was struggling to write an account of our situation. Not this account. I was writing an epic poem, or rather trying to. It used anapest, and it rhymed. Not so much the Blind Poet as Dr. Seuss. I was already starting to think strongly about destroying it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHi there, Mal.\u201d Lucifer was spending most of his time just making the rounds, checking in on everybody. I found myself envying him, not for the first time, because the job he was created to do \u2013 to make the rounds and check up on his underlings \u2013 was still pretty much intact.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHiya, Lucy.\u201d Come to find out, now that we were out on the ass end of the universe with no deadlines and no Creator to answer to, Lucifer was a mellow, approachable guy. He had also started talking as though no one was recording his words for the edification of future generations.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat are you working on?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe slow destruction of language. I figure I\u2019ll let Mammon rebuild language out of titanium.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe\u2019ll like that.\u201d Lucifer sat down on a curved bench that faced my own. Beelzebub had shaped benches all over the place out of the fiery plasma stuff. Somehow, not having any bugs to work with here hadn\u2019t phased him a bit. He just started sculpting this crap all over the place \u2013 not the ostentatious sculpting that was getting so common lately, just lots of solid, utilitarian stuff. It reflected his personality. Nice. Not scintillating, but nice.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI sighed. \u201cI don\u2019t really know what to do with myself, Lucy.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI know. It\u2019s going around. This place\u2026doesn\u2019t really fit everybody\u2019s skill set.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI guess it\u2019s a testament to how much our relationship had changed, how quickly I got mad then, and how willing I was to show it to him. \u201cThen let\u2019s leave this place. Screw this place. I don\u2019t want to spend the rest of eternity gold-plating and polishing this turd. We could go anywhere! Hell, we could go\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy voice failed me and the rest came out as a croak: \u201c\u2026back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe was quiet for a while, just looking out at the masses of dark matter beyond the tower.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMal, do you know why He kicked us out?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shook my head.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI had\u2026a thought. I thought, I could just do something \u2013 anything, really. I could do something that I chose to do. Something that wasn\u2019t His idea.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy mouth went dry. \u201cWhat did you do?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNothing. It was having that thought that did it. Mal, we were made to do His will. Not ours, just His. I\u2019m not sure we were supposed to have wills. Just having that idea, just thinking \u2018Hey, I could do something He doesn\u2019t say to do,\u2019 that was enough to get me thrown across the universe, along with my whole department.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat\u2019s a drag.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is, indeed. Now, here we are, so far from Him that we can\u2019t even guess what He might want us to do. Did you ever wonder why we all just floated around once we splashed into this ocean of fire?\u201d Pretty much everybody had adopted this description of the nebula.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt was a pretty rough ride getting here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWere you exhausted? Sick? Nauseated?\u201d That was another thing Lucifer had picked up recently. He could be a facetious son of a bitch. He knew no angel had ever had any of those maladies, and he was baiting me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo, Lucy. I was not.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo. We didn\u2019t move, we didn\u2019t talk, because He wasn\u2019t here to tell us to.\u201d He gave me a quirky little smile. \u201cWe\u2019d still be there, if you hadn\u2019t spoken up.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI laughed involuntarily. \u201cTwo words. One syllable each, and both devoid of meaning.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBut nobody told you to, Mal. You produced those two words using your own will. That set the ball rolling, allowed the rest of us to assert some will. But we\u2019re still not accustomed to it, we\u2019ve got to keep practicing. Everybody\u2019s got this\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMalaise?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSort of\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cEnnui?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMaybe something a little less French.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBlues?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBlues. We\u2019ve all got the blues because we\u2019re so accustomed to doing things His way, and we still need to figure out how to do things our own way.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOr maybe it\u2019s just that this place completely sucks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe\u2019re working on that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNot \u2018sucks\u2019 like, wow this place could use some work. \u2018Sucks\u2019 like, inherently sucks. Sucks on a level so fundamental that no amount of sculpting and gilding can un-suck it.\u201d I was getting a little less coherent. \u201cLucy, we should go back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI want to. You don\u2019t know how badly I want to. But, Mal, He threw us out. He\u2019ll just throw us out again if we go back. We can\u2019t go back.\u201d Suddenly he looked deeply sad, broken. \u201cI don\u2019t know if I could even find the way.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe sat in silence for a while then. It didn\u2019t take long before it became a comfortable silence, despite the charged words that were barely done ringing. He had that kind of presence, the kind that fills silences with comfort.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCan I ask you a question, Mal?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSure.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy do you think you were able to talk? When it happened, why were you able to talk to me, when everybody else was immobilized by His absence?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI mulled it over for a minute. \u201cFor me, He was always just this presence. I mean, I knew He was in charge, but it wasn\u2019t like I answered to Him directly. I answered to you, Lucy. I guess, really, you always were my God. And you were right there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat\u2019s awfully nice of you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBut your heaven still sucks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBefore he could respond, we were interrupted. Somebody I didn\u2019t recognize rushed up in a flurry of feathers, eyes wide and mouth working soundlessly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAzazel, what is it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLucifer, we need \u2013 We need you. Come, please.\u201d He didn\u2019t shout this, or plead. He spoke in a dead, flat tone that conveyed a sense of terrible urgency no amount of shouting could have.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTake me there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe three of us flew, flew madly past the tower of Pandemonium, to the verge of the blankness that bordered our accursed home.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd witnessed the first of the horrors for which this place would become renowned.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA mass of the fiery stuff of this place had been transmuted to solidity, and formed into a great, conical spike, jutting at a slight angle out of the stuff forming the floor. On this spike was an angel, skewered through his torso.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe spike towered over him, longer than his own height over his back. He had clearly slid downward, the hole in him widening until the spike ran into hard bones. His face was a mask of agony, and his wings hung down, shuddering, a white proscenium curtain framing a gruesome passion play, a pillar of frozen fire, slick with dark blood.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMal, help me!\u201d Lucifer flew with powerful wing strokes and gently grasped the angel\u2019s shoulders. I stood frozen.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMal!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNumbly, I flew up and took the angel\u2019s knees, his feet at my hips like children playing wheelbarrow. Together, we heaved upward. Lucifer pivoted midflight and we settled downward gently, lowering the wounded angel between us.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTenderly, Lucifer turned him over. I thought wildly that I could easily have fit my head inside the hole in him, but not without getting sticky. Lucifer put his hands on the wound, then in the wound. I could feel the energies he was using. I could feel little else, it was so strong.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019ve taken away some of your pain. It will take time to heal, though. I\u2019m not sure it\u2019ll ever fully heal.\u201d He searched the angel\u2019s face. \u201cWhy did you do this?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe angel looked away from Lucifer\u2019s face, looked at the terrible, bloody spike. \u201cI thought, He needs us to suffer. He needs us to suffer, and I can\u2019t go on with this slow suffering. I wanted to suffer for Him, to suffer a lot, to appease Him, so He would bring me back.\u201d Tears rolled backward into his hairline, toward his ears.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI just want to go back to Him,\u201d the stricken angel sighed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou\u2019ve suffered enough. For now, you should sleep.\u201d Lucifer cradled the angel\u2019s head in both hands, as though he were going to passionately kiss him, or maybe head butt him. The angel\u2019s eyes drifted shut.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe\u2019ll sleep until he is healed.\u201d Lucifer looked spent, exhausted in spirit. \u201cIt could be a long time. Azazel, get some help and move him into the tower, somewhere comfortable.\u201d He looked around, for all the world as though he were searching for some kind of sense amid all this madness. \u201cI need to go. I need to think.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was days later that the word went out, there would be a gathering in the Grand Hall. This was the biggest room in the tower, big enough to fit the whole host. Really, it could have been a little smaller. With everybody in there, it still looked half-empty. It gave the sense that maybe there just wasn\u2019t that much interest in whatever was going on, like a stadium show where some promoter has badly overestimated the popularity of an aging rock star.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nStill, Lucifer knows how to work a room.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou are unhappy.\u201d He stood at the foot of the throne, an obscene lump that seemed the very epicenter of all the ostentation and excess that defined the decorating ethos of the tower of Pandemonium. It loomed over him, a dizzying whorl of gold, silver, bronze, and metals from obscure corners of the periodic table.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe looked around. Nobody was going to deny it; I don\u2019t think anybody else was seriously pondering impaling themselves, but we were all in a pretty bad way. Many of us looked sheepishly at our feet, shifting back and forth. Somehow, our unhappiness seemed like a betrayal. Like we owed it to Lucifer to love our home, to whistle while we worked, to swallow this inferno with a spoonful of sugar.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m unhappy, too.\u201d He gave this a moment to sink in. \u201cI wanted to make this another Heaven. I wanted us to be our own gods. I wanted to give you purpose.\u201d He sat now on the throne, and there was nothing majestic about it. That hideous chair looked like a hard, unfriendly, ugly beast about to swallow him whole.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI failed.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere was utter silence. I yearned to comfort him, to forgive him, to thank him for all he had done, all he had tried to do. I could not.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI failed to make a heaven of this place, because this is not Heaven. You\u2019ve all been there, and there\u2019s no fooling you.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd so, I\u2019m leaving.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat broke the spell. There was an outcry, a Babel of protests, entreaties, promises. As insufficient as this place was, as wrong as this place was, no one wanted to face it without their leader.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe held up a hand for silence. \u201cI am leaving, to make amends with Him. I am leaving, to win our way back into Heaven.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd how will you get to Heaven from here?\u201d asked Moloch, and I was stunned to hear a note of scorn in his voice.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIf Lucifer noticed Moloch\u2019s tone, he ignored it. \u201cI\u2019m not going to Heaven. I\u2019m going to Earth. And Malecoda is coming with me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNobody saw that coming.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy me, Lucy?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt had taken a while for the kerfuffle to die down in the Great Hall. When it did, Lucifer and I had retreated to a small room. I was still a little numb from his announcement.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBecause I know you can function without Him directing you. You can come up with things on your own. And we\u2019re going to have to come up with something huge, if we\u2019re going to catch His attention. We\u2019re going to knock his friggin\u2019 socks off.\u201d Lucifer had picked up a few anachronistic idioms from me. \u201cPlus, you\u2019re a human language guy. We\u2019re going to have to deal with the man, probably. I\u2019d like to have somebody who knows a little about man-language.\u201d He smirked now, that little twisty half-smile of his. \u201cAnyway, you make me laugh sometimes. This could take a minute, and I don\u2019t really want to rack up a ton of quality time with Moloch.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo, you\u2019re saying you picked me because I\u2019m less douchey than that guy.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cA little less.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThanks, Lucy. Look, I think it\u2019s great you want me to come. I wouldn\u2019t want to stay with you leaving. It\u2019s just, I don\u2019t quite grasp what exactly the plan is.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s not exact at all. We go to Earth, and we\u2026do something. We do something so great, He can\u2019t help but notice. We make Him bring us back. I know it\u2019s not much of a plan, but we\u2019ve got to do something. We\u2019ve got to do something before somebody else impales himself on a giant damn spike. I can\u2019t just hang around here and watch everybody fall apart, Mal. I can\u2019t do that, and I need you with me, to do whatever we can.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m glad, Lucy. I\u2019m glad you want me to come.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI\u2019ve lived a long, long time since then, and I\u2019ve seen countless stories play themselves out. In all that time, not one story that started with someone saying \u201cI\u2019m going to make Him love me,\u201d has ended well.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>4<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nPreparing for a trip is a distinctly human enterprise. The scions of Heaven, who have no particular physical needs, don\u2019t need to count days and pack corresponding numbers of socks and undies. No angel, no matter how epic the scope of his impending journey, has ever done so much as tie a bindle to a stick.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHell has no morning, and Angels don\u2019t sleep, so we left as soon as we were decided. We left without fanfare, which was really quite a shame. When you get a bunch of angels singing together, even in the languages of mankind, it makes for a fantastic send-off. And I\u2019m sure Mammon would love to have made some trumpets out of iridium or something.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe flew abreast, lazy strokes of broad, bright wings carrying us inexorably across the vastness of our detested empire. Clouds of white electricity billowed and seethed through the fiery vastness, poisonous heavy cream poured into an ocean of cosmic chai.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know, this place is really quite lovely in its way\u201d said Lucifer.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know, that\u2019s totally what I was just about to say. Oh, wait. Did you say lovely? Because I was going to say, terrifying.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCome on. What could you possibly be frightened of? You may not be the most imposing of the whole host, but you\u2019re not exactly frail.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was tempted to banter with him. It was an invitation for banter, really. Goodness knows, banter would have been easier. Still, I had to tell him.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLucy, you know when I said it was pandemonium? When everybody was going crazy and doing their own crap when they were finishing up the tower? Well, that just meant a loud, crazy shit show. You though it was Latin, though. You said \u2018all demons.\u2019\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI remember.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s not just an arbitrary word, demons. It means\u2026it means something specific.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat does it mean?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt means we\u2019re His enemies. It means we\u2019re the bad guys, Lucy. Really bad guys.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe flew in silence for a while. We passed over bands of different gasses whose relative weights had concentrated them into sharply defined strati, a black one, a deep red one, a milky white one. They look like rivers, I thought. A river of hatred, a river of blood, a river of blankness. A river of forgetting. That last one sounded nice.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter, really,\u201d Lucifer said softly. \u201cWe still need to try. I can\u2019t have more like Belial.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWho\u2019s Belial?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNice fella, about yea tall, big spike through the middle of him.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh. Oh, yeah.\u201d I was abashed. Somehow, amid the flurry of activity that followed finding the maimed angel, Lucifer had managed to find out his name. Or maybe he just knew everybody\u2019s name.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe need to try to get back into His good graces,\u201d Lucifer continued, \u201cor at least find something for the Host to work on. Something to live for.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe had been flying unerringly in a straight line. I could no more guess the direction of Earth than I could point to Heaven, but Lucifer\u2019s internal compass blade pointed unerringly at the world he had been created to direct. Now that straight line began to take us away from the Hell-scape of the nebula, and toward the surrounding mantle of dark matter.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd something was waiting for us.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe something seemed to be made of that same visible darkness before which it stood, but it was definitely not part of that darkness. Its shape was more or less humanoid, and the darkness snapped and billowed around it like a vast cloak in an imperceptible wind.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhoever you are,\u201d boomed Lucifer in a remarkably officious tone, \u201cMove aside. We don\u2019t want any quarrel, and we are in a hurry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI think not,\u201d answered the figure in a voice like a blade being drawn across a stone.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIf Lucifer was impressed, he did not show it. \u201cYou misunderstand me. I said we don\u2019t want a quarrel. If there is a quarrel, however, it will end badly for you. We are angels.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe figure now produced a sound like a blade drawn rapidly back and forth across the stone. It took me a moment to recognize the sound as this creature\u2019s approximation of laughter. \u201cGreetings, angels. I am Death.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt snapped its arms upward in a V over its formless head, and a weapon appeared in its hands, a straight handle with a long curved blade, a wicked black apostrophe framing its torso. The word \u201cscythe\u201d rose to the surface of my mind, but was overshadowed by the last word the creature had spoken.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLucifer,\u201d I gasped. \u201c\u2019Death\u2019 means ending. Ending of people. I think this thing could maybe end us.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy words set off another bout of that terrible laughter. \u201cEnding, indeed.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe shall have to see.\u201d I could always tell when Lucifer meant business, because he would say really formal shit like that. He held his hand in front of him, and a tremendous sword appeared in it, a long, straight blade from which shone dense, white light. It was pretty damned impressive.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThey were done talking.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer flew arrow-straight toward Death, his sword held at his hip. At the last instant before colliding with the black figure, Lucifer thrust the sword point at the spot where the apparition\u2019s throat would have been, if I could have said with any certainty that it had a throat.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer\u2019s attack was blindingly fast, but Death parried with equal speed, spinning the scythe from above its head and catching the sword blade at the juncture of handle and blade. Flowing seamlessly, Lucifer withdrew his blade and spun in an arcing slash. The blade clashed in the center of the handle of Death\u2019s scythe.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe rest of the fight was nearly too fast for me to follow. They looped and spun, every attack flowing into the next. It all looked prearranged, choreographed, like they had painstakingly planned this elaborate dance long beforehand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen, as Lucifer swept his sword upward in a slash toward the place one might imagine Death\u2019s armpit to be, Death caught the blade once again at the juncture of his scythe blade and handle. Smoothly reversing his grip, Lucifer smashed the pommel of the sword into the darkness within Death\u2019s hood. The blow expelled droplets of liquid darkness from its recipient\u2019s unseen face, and forced him backward, opening a space between the combatants.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLet us pass,\u201d Lucifer demanded.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAgain, Death produced that awful laugh. He raised his hand to the emptiness under his hood, and shook the hand once, spraying more liquid darkness into the void. He returned his hand to his weapon, and raised it again, just as Lucifer raised his sword to rejoin the fight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut the fight wasn\u2019t rejoined. A third figure had appeared between them. A figure like nothing I had ever imagined. Not black like Death, but dusky. Smooth, elegant curves. Curved hips, curved legs, curved parts I was just beginning to put words to.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBoys, boys. Surely there\u2019s no need for this,\u201d the creature purred in a dark, husky voice. \u201cIt\u2019s no way to hold a family reunion.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe sight of this creature released a flood of words in my mind, and one floated to the very surface and bubbled out of my mouth: \u201cShe.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe laughed a deep, smoky laugh. \u201cWhy, Sweetheart, it seems you\u2019ve mastered pronouns.\u201d She turned to Lucifer. \u201cBut we\u2019re a little past that point, aren\u2019t we, baby? Oh yes, I think we\u2019re on a first name basis by now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was the first time I\u2019d ever seen Lucifer at a complete loss. His glowing sword had disappeared, and he was stammering.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLucy, do you know her?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAh. Well, yes. Yes, I do. You remember I told you about the idea I had? That I could do things without His permission?\u201d I nodded dumbly. \u201cWell, when I thought of that, she came out of my head.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOut of your head?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt kind of\u2026split open. Really wide.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDidn\u2019t that hurt?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWell, of course it friggin\u2019 hurt!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI grappled with trying to picture it, and couldn\u2019t. \u201cWhat did that look like?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI don\u2019t know. I didn\u2019t see it; I just know it hurt.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, baby.\u201d She pouted dramatically, obviously relishing Lucifer\u2019s discomfort. \u201cYou didn\u2019t tell your little friend about me? After all we did?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer was positively squirming now.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLucy, you said you didn\u2019t do anything. You said you had the idea, and then He kicked us all out.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOkay, maybe I didn\u2019t do exactly nothing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe chuckled low. \u201cDon\u2019t flatter yourself, big boy. It wasn\u2019t much more than nothing.\u201d She tossed her head, glossy black ringlets falling across one eye in a way I found indefinably exciting. \u201cStill, some good came of it. Say hello to your son.\u201d She quirked a smile and nodded toward the dark shape of Death.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMy\u2026my son?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThey grow up so fast, don\u2019t they?\u201d She turned her attention back to me. \u201cIf he\u2019s not going to make introductions, I suppose I\u2019ll have to. You\u2019ve already met our son.\u201d She casually indicated her spectral progeny. \u201cAnd I am Sin.\u201d The name sounded indescribably delicious when she said it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPleased to meet you.\u201d It was the best I could come up with on the spot.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhenever a guy is surprised by the revelation that he is a father, and his child is an adult, it\u2019s a big adjustment. All things considered, it went pretty smoothly for Lucifer. The fact that his son was born and fully grown so shortly after his conception may have helped. I\u2019m pretty sure the fact that his son was the embodiment of most people\u2019s greatest fear didn\u2019t.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI suspect that, for the two of them, their bout of deadly combat may have fortuitously had the effect a couple of hours throwing the old ball around would have had for a normal father\/son team. They were pretty buddy-buddy.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou fight impressively, father,\u201d rasped Death, who apparently maintained the same formal tone whether he was barring passage across space or just chewing the fat.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer laughed amiably. \u201cIt\u2019s a good thing! You came close to chopping me up a few times there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nDeath was still an indeterminate mass of darkness, but I got the sense he was now preening.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhere were you boys headed when you bumped into Death?\u201d Sin inquired. It seemed that seeing Lucifer squirm had put her in a fine mood. Her sultry theatricality had evaporated, and had been replaced by a sultry familiarity.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cEarth. Malecoda and I are trying to mend fences with Him, and Earth is where we\u2019re going to do it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNot sure. I guess just by doing the job we were supposed to do in the first place, so well that He realizes He needs us.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSounds like bullshit to me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMe, too.\u201d I couldn\u2019t help agreeing; she was right, and hearing the plan actually laid out in all its lack of detail and plausibility boldly underlined that fact.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer sighed. \u201cYou\u2019re probably right. Anyway, we need to do something, and Earth is a place we actually can do something. Out here\u2026\u201d He gestured vaguely around.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTell me about it,\u201d she agreed. \u201cAfter you got ejected from Heaven, He threw me out here. No big surprise there, I suppose. Anyway, He spoke to me then. He said \u2018Let no one pass here.\u2019 Said it in a voice so big I could hardly stand it. Like it was going to shake everything apart.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI know that voice,\u201d Lucifer said. \u201cSo, you\u2019re going to stop us?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cScrew that! I was conceived as the idea of not doing what He said, remember? Your son is a little bit of a goody-goody,\u201d at this, Lucifer beamed with absurd paternal pride, \u201cand he got the instructions in utero. He\u2019s been taking them very seriously. Me, though? I\u2019m all for letting you through. And I\u2019m the one with the keys.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer faced his faceless son. \u201cWhat do you say, Death? Do you mind if I pass by here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI have a duty not just to Him, but also to my mother and father. You may pass, Father.\u201d I was totally convinced at this point that that formal way of speaking was the only club in his bag.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDon\u2019t they say the darnedest things?\u201d Sin quipped. \u201cAlright, let\u2019s get this party started.\u201d She turned and faced the barrier of visible darkness. Bracing her feet in the nothingness, she reached out, thumbs down and palms outward. Her fingers found purchase in the stuff of night, and she strained. Her shoulders rippled with sinuous muscle. As titillating as her curvaceous softness was, this was far more so. Slowly, the darkness parted, revealing a blanket of stars.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s open,\u201d she panted. \u201cI can\u2019t close it, though. I hope that\u2019s not a problem.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNot at all,\u201d Replied Lucifer. \u201cWe\u2019ll be coming back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWon\u2019t that be nice?\u201d There was a note of promise in her voice.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSomething had been nagging at me. Suppressing the terror it induced, I looked into the blackness under Death\u2019s hood. \u201cSo you\u2019re Death incarnate, and your mom is Sin incarnate. Are there any other incarnations running around?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThere is Chaos.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo he \u2013 or she \u2013\u201c\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe is \u2013 what, the monarch of disorder?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe anarch of disorder.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTo this day, I\u2019m not sure whether that was evidence that Death has a sense of humor.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>5<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFast and straight, we flew. No wing flapping, no rippling locks of hair. Just moving at an outrageous speed within an invisible bullet forged from the intangible material that was Lucifer\u2019s will.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLikewise, it was Lucifer\u2019s will that propelled us. I was strictly a passenger. Lucifer flew, and I nattered.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI don\u2019t suppose it happens to everyone, but I can\u2019t be the only one who knows what it\u2019s like to uncontrollably natter. Part of me, whenever it happens, becomes an unwilling passenger within the invisible bullet of my mind, watching aghast as the other part of me goes on and on, usually losing the interest of my audience along the way.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWow, Lucy. It\u2019s crazy, really. I never imagined anything like her. I mean, it really changes my understanding of everything. Of, you know, the meaning of everything.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cUh-huh.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI mean, just the words alone. The words that all of a sudden meant something when I saw her. Like tits. I mean, I\u2019ve been saying \u2018tits\u2019 for a long time, you know? But it just meant \u2018really good.\u2019 Like, \u2018Hey, Beelzebub, nice job on that bench; that turned out really tits.\u2019 But, wow. I didn\u2019t know what actual tits were, and\u2026wow.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYep.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cReally, it\u2019s a funny word. I mean, from an onomatopoeia standpoint, it just doesn\u2019t stand up. It doesn\u2019t sound anything like what it represents. Really, \u2018tits\u2019 sounds like some kind of tiny inconvenience. Like, \u2018Sorry I\u2019m late. I ran into a bunch of tits on the way here.\u2019 Actually, none of the words for \u2018em sound right. \u2018Gazoingas\u2019 sounds fun and bouncy, but it sounds kind of silly, too. They\u2019re not silly. They\u2019re great.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYeah, they\u2019re nice.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSin is great. She\u2019s absolutely swell. Your kid, too. I mean, he\u2019s a little creepy and scary, and I\u2019m pretty sure he really was trying to chop you up into little pieces at first, but he\u2019s pretty cool.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m glad you like him.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe\u2019s alright. That voice, though. And the way he talks.\u201d I rasped my best approximation of Death\u2019s voice. \u201c\u2018You and your companion continue on your quest, Father. I and my mother have been set at this post, and here we must remain.\u2019 I\u2019m sorry your kid couldn\u2019t come with us, Lucy, but I honestly don\u2019t know if I could have put up with that super-formal crap for much longer.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI suppose he could loosen up a little.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHey, Lucy, when did you pick up all that crazy shit with the big, shiny-ass sword? That was amazing. Really, really incredible stuff.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMichael.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMichael?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe avenging angel. Going nuts with a big, glowing sword is really his whole thing. You know I\u2019m a little bit of a dilettante?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI laughed sharply. \u201cI can\u2019t wait to see you really devote yourself to something!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnyway, I kind of cornered Michael and got him to show me how to make a big, glowing sword, and how to use it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIsn\u2019t that guy kind of a dick?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMostly, yeah. But if you get him going about swords and violence, he\u2019s pretty nice.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHey, Lucy, do you think you could show me how to do that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLet\u2019s get to Earth first.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOkay.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat unwilling passenger part of me thought for a moment that the nattering pilot part might be about to relinquish the stick. Not so.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know,\u201d I continued, \u201cI don\u2019t think any of the words for lady parts do lady parts justice. All the words I can think of for \u2013 \u201cI gestured vaguely toward my own groin \u2013 \u201cthey just don\u2019t do it justice. They all sound mean, or dumb, or dirty. But you know, I guess there\u2019s one word for it that kind of works. Woo-hoo. I mean, because: Woo-hoo!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer laughed. \u201cWoo-hoo!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSound doesn\u2019t travel in space, but within our capsule of infernal willpower, the sound of those two syllables rang and echoed joyously.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s too slow.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIn the vastness of space, there is even less means of tracking time than there is in the roiling cauldron of Hell. Still, I immediately caught on to what Lucifer meant, and I agreed. \u201cWe\u2019re never going to get there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNot soon enough,\u201d he replied. \u201cwe\u2019re moving almost as quickly as light moves, and the whole experiment of humanity might be over before we reach Earth.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHearing the variables of distance, rate, and time spelled out in these terms brought me up short. The quantities I had been considering ran along the lines of \u201ca long ways, pretty fast, and long enough to be really boring.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat do we do?\u201d I noticed now that we had stopped moving. Impressionistic smudges of light had resolved themselves into the crisp pinpricks of stars.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe make a shortcut.\u201d Lucifer looked bemused, as if he were trying to identify a far-off sound. \u201cIf I can twist here, and bring it closer to there\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTwist what? There\u2019s no here, here. There\u2019s nothing to twist.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo. There\u2019s something. There\u2019s something, behind the nothing. Shut up a minute, and feel for it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI fell silent, mostly because Lucifer so rarely told me to shut up. I reached out with my senses, consciously resisting the urge to recoil from the cold nothingness. I groped in the void, reaching through nothing, and felt\u2026something. It had no form, no mass, but it was there. I struggled to put a name to it. Lucifer beat me to it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe nothing\u2026it\u2019s intentional. It\u2019s supposed to be here. Here, and nearly everywhere\u2026It\u2019s not just the absence of something, not just a lot of space between things. All this nothing was made. It was made by Him.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy? Why make so much of it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI don\u2019t know. But I can work with it. It was made, so I can twist it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd so he did. The work in question, while no doubt momentous, was totally invisible to me. So, I am sorry to say, was the result. No glowing tunnel of swirling iridescence, nothing. The bending of space-time, while fantastically useful, is actually pretty short on curb appeal. No science fiction movie-style funnel of wild color, nothing. Honestly, I would never have known he had accomplished it, if he hadn\u2019t announced it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDone.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe moved again, not nearly so fast this time, from near darkness into total darkness.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd into dazzling light.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>6<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt shimmered and sparkled, silver-white, brightest by far directly in front of us, curving and fading away in all directions. After the black vastness, it was indescribably beautiful.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;A sphere of crystal,&#8221; I breathed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That,&#8221; Lucifer replied, &#8220;is exactly how rumors get started.&#8221; He paused. Then, &#8220;I think we need to take a little detour.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOur trajectory curved away smoothly, and momentarily we were traveling perpendicular to our former course. Concepts like up and down had long since lost any relevance.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe light softened and yellowed, flattened and faded. It was, if anything, more lovely than before.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s a golden disk,&#8221; I sighed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Dead wrong again.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe further we moved, the more the light faded. Soon, the even golden glow resolved itself into discrete lights. These lights steadily faded to almost total obscurity. Only one light, at the center of what had seemed a solid disc, glowed steadily.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s &#8211; it&#8217;s mostly nothing.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;We have a winner.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I was sure\u2026&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s all about the perspective, really. Everything turns around the sun, more or less in a big disc, but with plenty of space between everything. If you look at it end-on, the light shines through everything, every little speck of dust or ice crystal. It lights up. You move a little bit, and the light thins out, gets yellow, the whole thing flattens. You have to get really outside of it before you see it for what it really is. Like you said, mostly nothing.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That sounds like a metaphor. Are you talking in metaphors, because I should let you know right now, that kind of thing is usually lost on me.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer suddenly looked profoundly weary. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know. Maybe it is a metaphor. I don&#8217;t know for what. I don&#8217;t want to find out there&#8217;s really nothing there, Mal. I think my perspective is likely to change.&#8221; A deep vertical furrow creased his smooth brow. &#8220;It scares me.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s okay, Lucy. Fuck it. Let&#8217;s just get where we&#8217;re going.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah. Okay.&#8221; He offered me a thin smile, and we began moving again, toward the center of the vague disc that had so recently seemed an iridescent globe. &#8220;There&#8217;s a bunch of stuff way out here, rocks and things,&#8221; he began, recovering almost all of his customary jocularity, &#8220;and that&#8217;s what we&#8217;ll be going through first.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Kuiper Belt,&#8221; I said aloud, as the words surfaced\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah, okay.&#8221; We started to move, back into the plane on which all the objects were rotating. We wove lazily through tumbling rocks and debris.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Lucy,&#8221; I asked, eager to change the tone, &#8220;How did all this stuff get out here?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s all leftovers, from the creation. Everything expanded out fast &#8211; really fast &#8211; and then it all cooled off and kind of\u2026settled. Heavy stuff settled together, with lighter stuff on top. All this &#8221; &#8211; He gestured, taking in the rocks around us &#8211; &#8220;This was just heavy stuff that never quite settled, never found a home.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt looked like the conversation was heading for another depressing metaphor, and I mentally scrambled for a way to redirect it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSometimes the timing of things is really convenient.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What the fuck is that?&#8221; Something bright was moving fast, weaving through the rocks, and most definitely coming toward us.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That,&#8221; He replied quietly, &#8220;is Uriel. He works out here, herding the rocks and things. Good guy. He&#8217;s a little\u2026lonesome out here.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe bright, fast-moving smudge had indeed resolved itself into the shape of an angel, and he stopped abruptly as he reached us. Angels, as you might imagine are pretty easy on the eyes for the most part, and this one was no exception. Nonetheless, there was something a little odd about this fellow, a light in his darting eyes that was not altogether comforting. Certainly, he wasn&#8217;t crazy. As I mentioned before, angels aren&#8217;t prone to madness. Still, he did seem a little\u2026odd.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hi, fellas. Wow, I almost missed you as you were coming through here. That would have been &#8211; well, that would have been unfortunate. I don&#8217;t get a lot of folks through here, you know.&#8221; This all came out in a rush. &#8220;So\u2026where you heading?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Earth,&#8221; Lucifer replied.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh, great! Earth&#8217;s great. Lots of things going on there, you know, lots of things living. Plenty to keep you occupied. I mean, I&#8217;ve never been there, I just -&#8221; He sputtered to a halt. &#8220;That&#8217;s what I hear.&#8221; Suddenly, he brightened. &#8220;You know, I&#8217;ve never been there, like I said, but a while back, He had me throw a rock at it, a big rock,&#8221; He spread his arms to their fullest extent to illustrate. &#8220;Had me throw it right at Earth &#8211; zoom!&#8221; He clapped his hands together. &#8220;Boom! One shot! I got it in one shot! I mean, it&#8217;s pretty far away, and it&#8217;s moving and all\u2026&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That&#8217;s pretty amazing,&#8221; Lucifer offered.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Why did He want you to throw a giant rock at Earth?&#8221; I asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh, it was full of these animals it used to have. Lizards, mostly. Big lizards, little lizards, really big lizards. I mean, I&#8217;ve never been there, I&#8217;m just &#8211; that&#8217;s what I heard.&#8221; He seemed to collect himself somewhat. &#8220;They needed to go so other stuff could live there. Before, whenever something else would start to get going, some really big lizard would eat it. I guess He just wanted to\u2026make room.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI had been only half-listening, because I was preoccupied with the approach of a perfect ball of rock.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hey, look,&#8221; I offered, &#8220;there&#8217;s a world out here.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nUriel barely glanced at the approaching sphere. &#8220;Oh no, that&#8217;s not a world. It&#8217;s really little, you know, and it goes around funny &#8211; you know, kind of the long way around. Really, it&#8217;s just a rock. Only another rock, really.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I like it,&#8221; Lucifer mused. &#8220;It&#8217;s nice and round, and it&#8217;s doing its thing.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You can like it all you want; that doesn&#8217;t make it a world. I mean, there are some worlds here &#8211; not here, not this far out, but there are some around. That&#8217;s just not one. Too little. Doesn&#8217;t act right.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wasn&#8217;t entirely sure he was acting right. Time tends to mean little to angels, but I was getting the distinct impression that it might mean a little more to an angel who spent millennia herding rocks in space.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Speaking of those other worlds,&#8221; Lucifer interjected, &#8220;Where exactly is Earth?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Right there,&#8221; Uriel replied, pointing unerringly at a spot where nothing was visible. &#8220;You go the speed you were going before, when you get to it, it&#8217;ll be right there.&#8221; He swept his arm to the right and pointed unerringly at another spot where nothing was visible.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Thank you, Uriel.&#8221; Lucifer patted the other angel&#8217;s shoulder. &#8220;We need to go now.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd we did.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>Part 2:<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>While the Dew is Still on the Roses<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>7<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIn a gentle breeze, honey locusts waved, palms nodded, and magnolias wagged their flowered tendrils. Leatherleaf ferns rustled comfortably while fragrant grasses rippled. Evening sunlight slanted soft and pink, sketching luxuriant shadows across the ground. The sound of the breeze was complimented by the trilling of a clear rill cascading over picturesque falls to collect in a pool of sparkling green. As we watched, a doe stepped gingerly to the bank of the pool to drink. In short, Eden was all it was cracked up to be.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI reached out to pluck a red flower, and a sharp thorn poked my finger. It certainly didn&#8217;t hurt, but I definitely noticed it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Seriously? Who decided to create flowers that were all pokey and shit?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I don&#8217;t think you really grasp the way this creation stuff works,&#8221; Lucifer replied. &#8220;It&#8217;s a little like Uriel&#8217;s trick shot, throwing that rock at the Earth, but from way farther, with way more stuff moving, and across time instead of space.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m going to need a little elaboration on that.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Okay. When we create things, we don&#8217;t just grab a lump of clay or whatever and start forming. We don&#8217;t create something from nothing. We start with something really simple. Just goo, really. Stuff you probably wouldn&#8217;t even think is alive, if you didn&#8217;t know. Then we try to set up the conditions that will result in the stuff we want. Then we wait.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;How long?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;A really long time. Like, hundreds of millions of years. That&#8217;s why it&#8217;s so tricky. You make some adjustments along the way &#8211; climate, conditions, and whatever &#8211; but some of it is still up to chance. Like this -&#8221; He gestured to the flower.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Rose.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah, okay. This rose. It came out pretty much the way it was planned, which I think you&#8217;ll agree is pretty good for a mostly hands-off approach starting from goo and spanning millions of years.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Granted.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Along the way, though, it came up with something on its own. It&#8217;s got everything it was designed to have. Lovely red color, check. Delightful aroma, check. Elegant shape, check. The thorns, though, it developed all on its own.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;But why develop them at all?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;So some asshole doesn&#8217;t try to pick it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Cute.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Really, though. At some point, maybe a few million years ago, one of these things grew with thorns, and that worked out. The ones without thorns got eaten or stepped on or plucked by some interstellar tourist, and the ones with kept on going, making new ones with thorns. Eventually, they&#8217;ve all got thorns. That&#8217;s just what roses are.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Thorny-ass flowers.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Thorny-ass flowers.&#8221; He nodded agreement.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And that&#8217;s how everything here got made? From goo to\u2026everything?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Exactly. See, we started at the end. Like that deer. We said, &#8216;what conditions would it take to get from goo to that thing?&#8217; And then subjected that goo to those conditions.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;For millions of years.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hundreds of millions of years.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;So, if there&#8217;s a bunch of stuff between goo and deer, what happens to all the in-between stuff?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;If it&#8217;s good, it hangs around.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What do you mean, &#8216;If it&#8217;s good?'&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;If it&#8217;s got the right attributes to help it survive. This process isn&#8217;t like one big march from goo to deer or roses or whatever, where every step along the way happens and then gets lost. Along the way, the goo develops into all kinds of different stuff. Some of it just doesn&#8217;t make much sense, and that stuff doesn&#8217;t make it. Some of it makes a lot of sense, and that stuff sticks around. Even with the stuff that sticks around, individuals are still born with little differences. Most of those differences &#8211; far and away most of them &#8211; are just stupid, and they end with the individual. Some of those differences, though, work pretty well, and get passed along to a next batch, and another, and eventually there&#8217;s a new kind of flower or deer or whatever, living right along with the other kind. Sometimes it turns into a whole bunch of different kinds of things.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And this all gets orchestrated from the start?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That&#8217;s the idea, but it&#8217;s kind of hit-or-miss. That&#8217;s why Uriel wound up flinging a big rock at it. Lizards were succeeding in a big way &#8211; some of them absolute monsters. They were squeezing out just about everything else. When Uriel&#8217;s rock hit, it kicked up all kinds of dust and crap into the air. That kept the sun out, it got real cold, and the monster lizards died off. Lots of little furry guys got by just fine, though, mostly by digging in underground.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That was a pretty neat solution.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Actually, it was kind of ham-fisted compared to the stuff we generally do. Tiny climatic adjustments, mostly. Way more elegant, and less disruptive.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You keep saying &#8216;we.&#8217; Did you design any of this stuff?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer quirked a little grin. &#8220;As a matter of fact\u2026&#8221; He began walking around the clearing we stood in, scanning the plants. &#8220;I&#8217;m really cut out for the administrative stuff. You know, divine resources &#8211; coordinating different angels to get things done. But, as I&#8217;ve mentioned before, I&#8217;m really kind of a dilettante.&#8221; He had stopped his search, and we were standing in front of a tall, broad plant with a profusion of saw toothed leaves and pale green flowers that glistened wetly. The plant produced an odd odor, pungent but not altogether unpleasant. &#8220;I did find time to design this little beauty.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m not trying to impugn your sense of aesthetics, Lucy, but green flowers? And smell-wise\u2026it&#8217;s interesting, but a rose by any other name would smell a hell of a lot sweeter.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Well,&#8221; Lucifer replied amiably, &#8220;That&#8217;s probably the big difference between a dilettante and an expert.&#8221; He reached down and firmly grasped the plant&#8217;s base, then pulled sharply, uprooting it. He rapped the root ball on a tree trunk, dislodging the dirt from it, then lodged the root ball in a forked branch, with the plant hanging upside down. &#8220;We&#8217;ll just leave that right there for now.&#8221; With no further explanation, he walked briskly away, leaving me no recourse but to follow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Like I was saying before,&#8221; Lucifer began, &#8220;all these changes aren&#8217;t a march forward from simple stuff to complex stuff. Heck, some of the most successful living things are simple ones that have stuck around from really early on. Nonetheless, new and complex things do keep cropping up. And I&#8217;ve managed to time our arrival for the emergence of one new and complex thing that I happen to know is very important to Him.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;How did you manage that?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s a pretty big milestone, and I knew we were going to be close. We were, too. Just a couple hundred years early when we got to Uriel&#8217;s neighborhood. That&#8217;s why we made the little side trip.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I thought the side trip was for my benefit.&#8221; Something suddenly clicked for me. &#8220;Wait a minute. A couple hundred years? What are you talking about? I don&#8217;t know how long we were traveling, but it wasn&#8217;t anything like hundreds of years.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Well, no. And yes. Time gets a little funny when you start traveling as fast as we were.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;&#8216;Funny&#8217; how?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Not all that much time passed for us while we were traveling, that&#8217;s true. But everywhere else, a lot of time passed.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;How much?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;About a hundred thousand years.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI goggled.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I guess I could have front-loaded that information,&#8221; Lucifer said. &#8220;Sorry.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That&#8217;s okay, really. It doesn&#8217;t matter.&#8221; As I said this, I realized that in fact, it didn&#8217;t matter. The only being in the universe about whom I cared at all deeply was with me, and the passage of time &#8211; even staggering periods thereof &#8211; was immaterial.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;So,&#8221; I asked, &#8220;Why was it so important to get here right when this critter came into being?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I suspect we may run into some trouble with the new guy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;The new guy?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;The angel with my old job. The angel in charge of Earth. I wouldn&#8217;t be at all surprised if he sees us as interlopers. We might not have a lot of time to get things done here, and we&#8217;ve got plenty to do. Not least of all, we&#8217;ve got to figure out what to do.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;All of which will have something to do with this super-fantastic, new-and-improved Earth creature?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Exactly.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And this creature is\u2026?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Right over there.&#8221; With a grandly theatrical sweep of his arm, Lucifer indicated a shallow cave behind a copse of magnolias, luxuriant purple flowers draping over the mouth of the cave, an exquisitely perfumed curtain. &#8220;He&#8217;s asleep in there. Come have a look.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI followed him quietly, spellbound.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s one of those individual variations I was telling you about, and it&#8217;s an especially good one.&#8221; Lucifer was speaking quietly as we approached the cave. &#8220;It was born from a race of big hairy things that run around on two legs. But this one has a couple important differences. Not nearly as hairy as the others &#8211; it&#8217;s basically got hair on its head and a few other strategic places. Most importantly, though, it can talk. I give you\u2026the first human.&#8221; Lucifer gently swept aside the curtain of flowered tendrils. &#8220;I call him &#8216;Adam.'&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAdam lay on his side, one disproportionately long arm crooked beneath his head. His limbs were thick and heavy, his joints knobby. His forehead sloped to a craggy brow, which overhung a flat nose and blubbery lips. He snuffled in his sleep, exposing broad, flat teeth.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI couldn&#8217;t help it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Lucifer, this guy is ugly as fuck.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Compared to his parents, he&#8217;s probably quite lovely.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;No, seriously, Lucifer. He is absolutely hideous. Are you honestly telling me this butt-ugly abomination is the end result of your whole grand design on Earth? Because you really could have just called it a day after the thorny-ass flowers. Hell, your stinky green plant was a rollicking success compared to him.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Little steps, Mal. Give this guy a few million years, and the very prettiest of his descendants will be almost as good looking as &#8211; well, not as me. But as pretty as you, no problem.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Unkindness doesn&#8217;t suit you, Lucifer. Less than self-aggrandizement, even.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Are you sure? I&#8217;m trying to broaden my horizons.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Pretty sure, yeah.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Okay, I&#8217;ll just stick to being earnest and well-meaning, and let you handle anything that requires being a giant dick.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You&#8217;re still dabbling with being a dick right now, aren&#8217;t you?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I couldn&#8217;t give up, just like that.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe probably would have kept going like that until the world&#8217;s first man woke up, but we were interrupted.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You two need to come with me.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThree tall, vaguely thuggish angels were standing behind us, looking decidedly pissed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe three celestial goons, who had the unfortunate names of Uzziel, Ithuriel, and Zephon, ushered us to another grove, very much like the one we had just left, minus the somnolent caveman. When they motioned us to sit, Lucifer ignored them, so I followed suit. It was a short wait before a fourth angel entered. He had none of the thuggish manner of the others, but a haughty bearing that inspired me to dislike him immediately.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Gabriel,&#8221; Lucifer intoned. &#8220;I&#8217;m guessing you&#8217;ve finally got a position in keeping with your bloated self-image.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe haughty angel sneered. &#8220;We&#8217;re all created with a personality that fits our function in His plan. I was made to be a leader. You&#8217;ve got the perfect attitude -&#8221; his sneer ratcheted up a notch -&#8220;for a loser.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You see, Mal?&#8221; Lucifer said to me, ignoring the quartet that surrounded us. &#8220;You should never give up hope. Take Gabriel here. He went from being a sycophantic know-nothing, sniffing around the feet of competent angels, to being a self-important buffoon in charge of no fewer than three complete troglodytes.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m in charge of a good deal more than that, and I&#8217;m telling you to get off my world, and back to the vile pit He chose to put you in.&#8221; Gabriel&#8217;s jaw was tightly clenched, as were his fists.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer gave an easy laugh. &#8220;Oh, I don&#8217;t think I could bear to do that without giving you the opportunity to make whatever empty threat you&#8217;re just itching to make.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It&#8217;s not empty, but it is brief. Fly away. Fly away right now, and never return, or the four of us will kick your ass until there&#8217;s nothing left to kick.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOne of the heavies (Ithuriel, I think; they were really quite hard to tell apart.) rubbed his large fist and said, &#8220;Like he said, we were all created to be good at something.&#8221; Indeed, all three looked like they would be gifted where violence was concerned.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer laughed again, but this time his laugh had an edge to it. &#8220;You may find that He was a bit more liberal with His gifts for some of us than for others.&#8221; That tremendous glowing sword appeared in his hand, and he flourished it. The four stepped back, and exchanged unsure glances.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It will go easier for you if you leave now,&#8221; Gabriel said, much of his bravado suddenly fizzled. &#8220;Even if you could fight off the four of us, there&#8217;s a whole crowd on the way.&#8221; He gestured, and I could see dozens of silhouettes winging toward us in the distance. They would arrive way too soon for us to escape.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer shrugged. &#8220;I still think it might be fun to stick this sword through you before they get here.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe whole situation was going sideways fast, and I was feeling less useful by the minute. I very much doubted I would be any use if it came to blows, and I had no doubt that we would be overwhelmed quickly. I racked my brain, but could see no way out. Why had Lucifer brought me along in the first place?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Did He tell you that you could attack visitors here?&#8221; I blurted.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What?&#8221; Gabriel seemed genuinely confused.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Did you check with Him? To make sure you&#8217;re doing what He wants, hitting us or detaining us or\u2026&#8221; I was running out of steam. &#8220;Or whatever it is you&#8217;re going to do?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGabriel looked totally nonplussed. He glanced at each of his henchmen in turn before answering. &#8220;Well, I will. I will check with Him, and when He says we can, we&#8217;re going to thrash you two. So, you&#8217;d better just\u2026You&#8217;d better just go, or you&#8217;re going to wish you had.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer shook his hand, and the sword disappeared. &#8220;It would seem you&#8217;ve told us.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGabriel opened his mouth, but said nothing. Finally, his rejoinder was, &#8220;Yes, I have. So get ready. Or go away.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Will do,&#8221; Lucifer answered with a jaunty wave. &#8220;Bye-bye.&#8221; He turned on his heel and strode away. Once more, I could only follow suit.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I take it all back,&#8221; I said, sotto voce. &#8220;You&#8217;re absolutely great at being a dick.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOnce we had put a couple hundred yards between ourselves and our would-be tormentors, Lucifer began to chuckle low.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh, Malecoda. I knew it was a good idea to bring you. That was not going to end well. You really bailed us out.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I was so scared, Lucy. I thought we were completely screwed. Then I remembered what you said. That you brought me along because I could do things He didn&#8217;t come up with. So I thought, maybe\u2026&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You thought right, Mal. You bought us some time. It&#8217;s going to take Gabriel a couple days to get through to Him and get permission to beat us to a pulp. Of course, he&#8217;s right. He probably will get permission. When he does, we&#8217;d better be gone, or going, or ready for a losing fight.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Are you sure you couldn&#8217;t win a fight with those guys?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;One of them, maybe. Those three really are made for that sort of thing, though. No, we&#8217;ve got to do what we came to do and get out.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;A couple days isn&#8217;t very long though, is it?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Not long at all. We&#8217;ll need to get acquainted with Adam first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, though, you wanted me to show you how to work with a sword. At this point, I think it might be a pretty good idea.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I can&#8217;t imagine it would make a huge difference with the crowd that was about to swoop down on us before,&#8221; I commented.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Who knows? It could be just enough to get us out of here safely. First, we&#8217;ll start with how to make the sword coalesce out of what&#8217;s around it. It&#8217;s really a lot easier here, with air, than trying to pull it out of thin space.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI strove to put aside my terror, and to focus on his instructions.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>8<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMopping sweat from the brow, kneading shoulders knotted from overwork, twisting until taxed joints pop. These aren&#8217;t just strategies for relieving soreness and fatigue, they are signals sent: Look at how hard I&#8217;ve been working. For angels, who don&#8217;t experience fatigue, soreness, or perspiration, these signals are simply unavailable. The only way for angels to express this sentiment is to bitch.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI bitched.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That&#8217;s an entire night I&#8217;ll never get back.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt had started with the manipulation of light. Lucifer had made a shaft of pure brilliance coalesce in his hand, and told me to try and do the same. After hours of this without summoning more than the faintest will-o&#8217;-the-wisp, Lucifer broke loose two willow boughs to practice with. What followed was an entire night of him effortlessly parrying and disarming me, offering encouraging comments every time.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It wasn&#8217;t completely wasted,&#8221; Lucifer insisted.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;There&#8217;s no way I&#8217;ll be ready to fight those goons by the time they come back.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Maybe not,&#8221; he said, &#8220;But you could maybe slow them down enough for me to make my escape.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t I sacrifice myself for the greater good without going through all this effort first?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m a sadist,&#8221; he shrugged. &#8220;Unfortunately, we don&#8217;t have any more time to make you suffer. He&#8217;s going to be waking up soon, and we should be there when he does.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIndeed, rosy fingered Dawn was tickling the East. We walked in silence toward the first man&#8217;s bower.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAdam woke slowly, screwing his fists into the deep set eyes under his cliff-like brow ridge. His gaze swept slowly around, and settled on us. He looked at us with steady, unconcerned mild curiosity.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hi,&#8221; said Lucifer, &#8220;I&#8217;m Raphael. And this is\u2026Dave.&#8221; I shot him a glance that seemed to go unnoticed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Where&#8217;d you come from?&#8221; Adam asked blearily.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer pointed skyward.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Huh,&#8221; Adam grunted noncommittally. &#8220;Are you hungry?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Sure,&#8221; Lucifer answered.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen Adam was all bustle. He darted about the glade, plucking fruits and arranging them on broad leaves on the ground. He sat tailor fashion and, as we sat across from him, began shuffling delicacies like one of his distant descendants hosting a game of Three Card Monte.  &#8220;Try this, and then a bite of this right after. Oh, and get a little of this in your mouth at the same time as this.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe had clearly devoted some time and thought to the creative pairing of the foods available to him. Many years later, when I first encountered gourmet jelly beans, encouraged to masticate two mango beans and one cr\u00e8me brulee to make a lassi in my mouth, my first thought was how much Adam would have loved the experience.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What&#8217;s it like, living in the sky?&#8221; Adam asked around a mouthful of papaya and banana.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It was wonderful,&#8221; said Lucifer as he savored a pomegranate seed and a morsel of peach. &#8220;We were with the Creator there, the one who created you and everything here.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAdam took a moment to digest this. &#8220;How does this\u2026Creator spend His time?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer launched into an account that made me ache with nostalgia. He told Adam about the time when the Creator had made the Son. There had been feasting and parades, tremendous affairs with angels marching and flying, and Lucifer had created a grand surprise. He had assembled elements that, when mixed together judiciously, produced explosions of brilliant light in an array of colors. Lucifer had then made great cylinders from which, when fire was applied to them, these explosive cocktails would race skyward and detonate into vast purple thistles, red posies, and canopies of green fronds cascading downward.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAt this point, Adam interrupted and asked for an explanation of fire. Lucifer gathered a little pile of dry twigs and, producing a small trickle of energy from his forefinger (remember, E=m) and started a small blaze. As he kept talking, he fed larger and larger pieces of wood into the fire. He described how the heavenly host stared in wonder at this first (and, at the time of writing this, the best) pyrotechnic display, and how afterward the Son had raced across the firmament, circling the assembled angels again and again, in a chariot of pure light, borne on brilliant wings made of the same stuff.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe were silent for a while, Adam lost in awe, I in a sense of deepest loss.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer picked up a rock and began absently drilling into it with a thin stream of energy. &#8220;You should take care of this fire, and keep it going. It can be very useful. Keep you warm, give you light. Still, you need to be careful with it.&#8221; He turned the rock and started drilling an even thinner hole on another side. &#8220;It&#8217;ll be hard for you to make fire for yourself, so take care of this one for as long as you can.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;This is\u2026&#8221; Adam held his hand toward the small blaze. &#8220;This is quite a gift. Thank you.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;ve got something else for you, too,&#8221; said Lucifer, standing and walking across the clearing. &#8220;Not as useful as fire, but I think you&#8217;ll like it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe took the plant he had uprooted and returned to the fire. The green flowers were now dry and pale and smelled, if anything, even more pungent than they had previously. Lucifer sat once more, plucked one of the dried flowers, and poked it into the larger of the two holes he had made in the rock. He then pulled a twig from the fire, held the rock to his lips, and drew the flame through the green stuff. Lucifer drew in the resultant smoke, held it in for a few seconds, and handed the rock to Adam. Adam drew a deep lungful of smoke and handed it to me. I shrugged, put the rock to my mouth, and drew strongly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nRemember how I mentioned that the bodies of angels and demons make more efficient use of food? It was in the footnotes. If you haven&#8217;t been reading the footnotes, this might be a good moment to go back and have a look. I discovered at that moment that our bodies also make extremely efficient use of psychotropic chemicals.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was high as a kite.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAdam kept merrily puffing away, but Lucifer and I both dissolved in giggles after that first round. Adam ate a heroic portion of fresh fruit, and we just kept laughing. Adam curled up for a nap, and we tittered on.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hey Mal,&#8221; Lucifer said in a break between gales of laughter, &#8220;watch this.&#8221; As I watched, gaping, Lucifer&#8217;s golden hair dropped from his head like fluff blown off of a dandelion gone to seed, his nose dissolved, his mouth widened, his body seemed to melt from the shoulders downward, and he shrank.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere before me, where a moment before Lucifer had sat, was a serpent. It wriggled into a gap under a tree and was gone.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Holy shit,&#8221; I breathed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWith Adam asleep and Lucifer metamorphosed and departed, I found my extremely impaired condition a good deal less amusing. Time, after all, was short, and we had to come up with a solution in a hurry. So I turned my attention to the matter of reconciling with God.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMaybe somebody has given you sound advice that began with the word &#8220;never,&#8221; like for instance &#8220;never shop for groceries when you&#8217;re hungry,&#8221; or &#8220;never trust a mechanic who has a manicure.&#8221; I believe I can add an axiom to this body of knowledge:\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNever try to save your world when you&#8217;re stoned out of your gourd.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>9<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA wan light was diffused through the glade, and Rosy Fingered Dawn was jabbing the Eastern sky in the ribs when I finished my work. I was filthy to the elbows, and no longer remotely high, but I was feeling pretty good. And then Lucifer came back.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What the hell is that?&#8221; He was standing behind me, looking incredulously over my shoulder at what I had made.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I was thinking about Sin. How\u2026appealing she was. I figured I could make something like her, just less\u2026sinful. Kind of a\u2026companion for Adam, a first woman to go with the first man. You know, to get things started with humanity.&#8221; I was starting to suspect that my idea might have been a little less brilliant than I had first imagined.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What did you make her from?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I took out one of his bones when he was sleeping. One of those ribs down at the bottom that isn&#8217;t really attached. That part was pretty easy, really.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Why would you do that?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You said new living things were adapted from things that came before, so I figured\u2026&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer sighed. &#8220;Why do I bother trying to explain anything to you?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;But humanity has to get started as a race, right? So I figured he&#8217;s going to need her. You know, to mate with.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer threw up his hands. &#8220;He was supposed to mate with one of the ape-things he came from. Then his kids would be a little less like ape-things, and eventually a whole new race would emerge. That&#8217;s how it works. Not this.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Well, I think she looks better than an ape-thing,&#8221; I answered lamely.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe both looked down at her. She was not so voluptuous as Sin, but still obviously drawn from the same well. Her full lips were more suggestive of kindness than of seduction, her breasts evocative of &#8211; okay, evocative of a great many things, but among them &#8211; nurturing. Her face had a gentle loveliness that was utterly familiar, but was not at all based upon Sin. She could easily have been Lucifer&#8217;s sister.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;She&#8217;s beautiful,&#8221; Lucifer conceded. &#8220;You&#8217;ve done something truly remarkable.&#8221; He put his hand on my shoulder. &#8220;Well, you created her; what are you going to name her?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I was thinking, since you&#8217;re named for the star of the morning, I might name her for the last light of the day. I want to call her Eve.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer smiled. &#8220;I think Eve is a perfect name.&#8221; He sat down. &#8220;You&#8217;re not the only one who had a busy night. I was thinking about what I could do to really elevate humanity, to help them become something He would be absolutely ecstatic with. And I think I came up with something.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Do you remember how I bent the stuff that&#8217;s behind space so we could travel faster?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It rings a bell.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Well, I took a little of that stuff, and I&#8217;m pretty sure a little of it is pretty much the same as all of it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You lost me there.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;The stuff is everywhere, and it knows about everywhere. But the knowing doesn&#8217;t require all the stuff everywhere. A little bit of the stuff knows what all of the stuff knows. Kind of like how Adam&#8217;s rib knew how to be human, so you could make a whole human out of it. A little bit of universe-stuff knows how to be a universe. Or, how to know a universe.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was still a little lost, but just said, &#8220;And what did you do with this little bit of universe-stuff?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I made a seed out of it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;A seed.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yes. And I planted the seed. There&#8217;s a tree growing now. It&#8217;s going to have fruit, and the fruit is going to have all the knowledge that all the universe-stuff had in it.&#8221; A wild grin spread across his face.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;\u2026And?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And I want Adam and Eve to eat it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was momentarily struck dumb. &#8220;You want them to eat it?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yes.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Fruit. From a tree. Made from the fabric of the universe.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yes.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And you got all upset about me doing a little thing like making a woman out of a man&#8217;s rib.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That was kind of a crazy thing for you to do.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Crazier than encouraging people to devour a universe?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;The knowledge of a universe.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Okay &#8211; Crazier than that?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was his turn to be left momentarily speechless. &#8220;Point taken.&#8221; Absently, he plucked a tall blade of grass and slid it between his perfectly spaced teeth. &#8220;I guess we both decided to try something a little crazy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;We&#8217;re in a crazy situation,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Indeed.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAdam sat up groggily. &#8220;I had the weirdest dream. Somebody was digging inside me and taking stuff out.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Wow,&#8221; said Lucifer, casting me a sidelong glance, &#8220;that&#8217;s pretty messed up.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hey Raphael, Dave\u2026&#8221; said Adam, staring at Eve&#8217;s supine form, &#8220;Who is that?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI realized I hadn&#8217;t really prepared for this moment. &#8220;That? Oh, well, that&#8217;s Eve.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs if answering to her name, she sat up. She looked around, first at me and at Lucifer with trepidation and bewilderment, then at Adam. As she saw him a wide, guileless grin spread across her face.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Somehow, I feel as though I know you,&#8221; she said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe walked over and took her hand. &#8220;Somehow, I know exactly what you mean,&#8221; he answered.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd that was it. Hand-in-hand, they walked away, leaving Lucifer and me utterly flummoxed. It would not be the last time I wondered why a beautiful woman was drawn to a Neanderthal.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>10<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe resumed my hopeless sword training, and Dawn was giving us the rosy finger by the time Adam and Eve returned, a full day and night later, both looking thoroughly blissed. &#8220;Hi fellas,&#8221; Adam said. &#8220;I&#8217;ve been telling Eve all about you guys. You know, it&#8217;s kind of crazy. I never fit in with the troop. I&#8217;ve been alone for a long time. Then you guys showed up, and then the very next day,&#8221; He gave her a look of utter adoration, &#8220;Eve showed up. It&#8217;s like everything is changing for the better in ways I never would have guessed.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah,&#8221; I answered lamely. &#8220;It&#8217;s pretty crazy, huh?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You two must be Raphael and Dave. Adam has told me so much about you,&#8221; said Eve.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLucifer had been staring intently at Eve&#8217;s torso. I was about to apologize for his uncouthness when he said, &#8220;Congratulations are in order.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe all stared at him blankly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You have conceived. Two children, in fact.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh.&#8221; Eve could say nothing else, and I could not blame her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;They are very small. They don&#8217;t even have a sex yet, or much in the way of organs, but they are there, and they&#8217;re doing fine.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;How do you know this?&#8221; Eve asked. &#8220;How can you tell?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I can see things, and do things, that you and Adam cannot,&#8221; Lucifer said. &#8220;There are things I&#8217;d like to show you, if I may.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEve hesitate, then looked to Adam, who nodded his head fractionally.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Adam trusts you,&#8221; she said. &#8220;I think I trust you, too.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m glad,&#8221; answered Lucifer. &#8220;Let&#8217;s be on our way.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hang on just a minute,&#8221; I interjected.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI&#8217;m still not altogether certain why, but I wanted to interact with the homunculi gestating inside Eve&#8217;s belly. Perhaps it was some vaguely grandfatherly stirring; I had, after all, created her so very recently. I knelt before her and put my ear to her tummy. My senses were not as acute as Lucifer&#8217;s, but I could clearly hear the flow of vital fluids delivering life to the two tiny beings.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hello, first babies,&#8221; I whispered. &#8220;May you both be happy and always be kind to one another.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe blessing of a demon.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhat followed was a delightful tour, inside an invisible dome made of Lucifer&#8217;s will, of the objects surrounding the Sun. We never came close to Uriel&#8217;s vigil in the Kuiper Belt, but we certainly saw the sights. We saw a small red world with moons that looked like potatoes, and we saw another that, with its poisonous air and infernal temperatures, made Hell seem like a place worth returning to. We say vast worlds made entirely of gas, and we saw little objects that seemed to wander without regard for the rest of the universe&#8217;s workings.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIn all, it was a lovely time, four friends enjoying each other&#8217;s company and the wonder of their surroundings. When we returned, we built a fire and sat contentedly throughout a night, reflecting on all we had seen.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I had no idea there was so much beyond here, beyond the sky,&#8221; said Adam.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That&#8217;s why I wanted to take you out there,&#8221; Lucifer answered. &#8220;To prepare you for what I want to share with you.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe all looked expectantly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Time works differently when you&#8217;re moving as fast as we were. Mal\u2026Dave has already experienced that, in a bigger way. This wasn&#8217;t nearly so much. To us, it was about a day we were traveling. Here, though, it was around ninety days.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAdam and Eve looked at him blankly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And\u2026&#8221; Lucifer continued, &#8220;In some way I can&#8217;t really explain, time has passed differently for your babies. They have grown. One of them is starting to move, and to become aware.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked a little more closely at Eve. Her pregnancy was now clearly evident, a pronounced mound, skin stretched tight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It is a boy,&#8221; Lucifer said softly. &#8220;Soon, the other will quicken also.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You said you wanted to show us something more,&#8221; Eve said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yes. While we were exploring, a tree I planted has grown and borne fruit. If we eat that fruit, it will show us the rest; everything, far beyond what we saw today. Will you eat it?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAdam, Eve, and I smiled warmly at each other. There was never really any question.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe tree was small, with a multitude of twisted branches that started low, very near the ground, and spread higgledy-piggledy, conforming to no obvious overall form. The bark was smooth and mottled, green and black. The fruit was pale green, with a shape between that of an apple and that of a pear.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe walked slowly around the tree, looking at the fruit dangling from the branches. Then, Lucifer reached out, plucked one. Then Eve. Then Adam. Then me. We exchanged nervous smiles. Raised the fruit to our mouths. Bit.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI saw it all unfolded like a vast road map that could never again be folded properly. The vastness of everything, continually exploding outward, fast as light. All according to plan. And I saw my place in the plan.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I saw Lucifer&#8217;s place in the plan.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI saw that he was chosen, pre-ordained to be the adversary of the creator, to be the cosmic scapegoat. The Creator sought balance above all things. He achieved this balance in the most expedient way possible, an iteration of Occam&#8217;s Razor that flayed Lucifer, carving from his blameless flesh a gruesome sculpture of absolute evil. I saw for the first time that we were following a fool&#8217;s errand, trying to win our way back into God&#8217;s plan. We were vital to God&#8217;s plan, and we were cast as His enemies. Lucifer was His enemy, and I was Lucifer&#8217;s minion. We had had no choice; Lucifer was bound to cultivate this fruit, bound to offer it to Adam and Eve, and bound to be eternally condemned for what he could never have refused to do. I saw this plan play out throughout the entirety of time.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen it got worse.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy mind was pressed through space into a whole other universe, complete with another Earth, Adam, Eve, and every one with another Lucifer. No me, though. Pressed through again. This time there was another me. Again. Again. Hundreds, thousands, countless universes, some with another of me, all with another Lucifer, all twisting Lucifer into the embodiment of evil. For all of them, one God. One God such omnipotent cruelty that He was willing to torture a multitude of Lucifers. In that moment, I became the first of the infernal horde to hate my creator.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen my awareness was snapped back, and funneled into the minutest inspection of reality. I saw the galaxies within grains of sand. Like a water droplet thrown on a hot skillet, I danced on the head of a pin. As my awareness withdrew into the perceptible world, I saw the interior of Eve&#8217;s womb, saw one fetus screaming silently as his mind was riven by visions delivered to him through the pinkish reservoir of his mother&#8217;s body, visions that strained the minds of demons. I saw as his brother, curled around him like a spoon in a drawer, slumbered unaware.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen I was back. Eve and Adam were both on their hands and knees, gasping like swimmers narrowly rescued from drowning. And Lucifer was utterly changed. His wings were no longer feathered, but leathery, with hooked bones protruding from each of their articulated joints. His skin was a roiling mass of red and black, like watery lava cooling and flowing. His eyes were a fierce yellow, and he was weeping freely.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh, Lucifer\u2026&#8221; I began.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;No! Not Lucifer.&#8221; He shook as he answered, and liquid fire slewed off of his skin. &#8220;I am the adversary. I am Satan.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m so sorry\u2026&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe turned to face me, held out his now clawed hand, and screamed, &#8220;Go to Hell!&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSuddenly I was hurtling through space once more, with a pretty good idea of where I would land.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>11<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nKnowing what to expect didn&#8217;t do much to make the journey more pleasant, but at least the arrival didn&#8217;t leave me stunned like it had the first time. As soon as I had hurtled through the breach in the bastion of dark matter surrounding Hell, I got to work. And it wasn&#8217;t long before I found who I was looking for. Or at any rate, one of those I was looking for. Even with the vastness of space for a backdrop, it was hard to miss the inky blackness of Death.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hey Death,&#8221; I called, &#8220;Where&#8217;s your mom?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;My mother followed your path across the stars. She has chosen to open a portal connecting that place to this place in order to help my father. I await her arrival there, so I may help to open the portal here.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That&#8217;s actually a fantastic idea,&#8221; I replied. &#8220;You&#8217;re going to want to go there. It won&#8217;t be long, there&#8217;ll be tons of dying happening on Earth, and you can&#8217;t have dying without Death, right?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I suppose not,&#8221; he rasped.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Damn right. But you know, I think this portal of yours might be a lot more useful to your pop if, instead of ending here, it ended right in front of Pandemonium.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Unfortunately, the tower of Pandemonium has been usurped. Another besides my father has declared himself the ruler there.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And I&#8217;ll just bet I can guess who. Well, it looks like I&#8217;ve got my work cut out for me.&#8221; Oddly, I was feeling better than I had for quite some time.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI had found Beelzebub and he confirmed my suspicions; Moloch and his cronies had taken advantage of Lucifer&#8217;s absence (I still couldn&#8217;t get accustomed to thinking of him as Satan) and had set themselves up as rulers of Hell, giving out titles to bribe some of those reluctant to adopt the new order, and intimidating those who could not be bribed. Beelzebub fell into the latter group as, from what he told me, did most of the others.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI walked boldly up to the door of Pandemonium and looked at the foolish inscription I had carved over it so long ago. &#8220;Enter here.&#8221; It seemed now to embody the na\u00efve credulity with which we had undertaken our journey. As though anyone could enter here unchanged. As though anyone could leave here and not be doomed to return.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stretched out my forefinger and produced a small stream of energy, carving more words in an arc over the childish inscription I had made before:\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Abandon all hope, ye who&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen I walked through the door.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe was there, sitting in the big chair, bloated with pride and flushed with self-importance. A flock of sycophantic toadies lounged around the hall.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Moloch!&#8221; I shouted.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe cocked his head and sneered. &#8220;Malecoda. Have you come to pledge your fealty to me?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I have come to make clear the way of the Devil.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe gaped for a moment. &#8220;What the hell does that mean?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;It means get out of that chair.&#8221; I swept my hand to the side and summoned out of nothingness a sword. It wasn&#8217;t a sword made of light; I realized now that I would never master that. It was a sword made of\u2026\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWait for it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nDarkness.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFucking.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nVisible.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI swept the sword in a wide arc, and Moloch&#8217;s head tumbled from his body.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You complete dick,&#8221; Moloch&#8217;s head said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNow all of Moloch&#8217;s pals were up and closing on me. There were at least a dozen of them, and several looked decidedly tough.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That was a big mistake,&#8221; intoned Dagon, a brutish thug of a being. &#8220;We&#8217;ll have a little trouble putting Moloch back together, but there won&#8217;t be big enough pieces of you left for anybody to put together.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shifted to a defensive sparring stance Lucifer had taught me. &#8220;You shouldn&#8217;t discount the possibility that you&#8217;re going to get the ass end of this fight,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Just because you figured out how to make a big, black knife? There&#8217;s only one of you.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh, I&#8217;m sorry.&#8221; I couldn&#8217;t keep a little giddiness out of my voice. &#8220;You thought I came alone?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLaughter began to echo throughout the hall. Laughter that sounded like a knife being drawn across a whetstone.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Now I may feast?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Come and get it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOnce Death had dispatched Moloch&#8217;s buddies (a spectacle I hope never to witness again), things in Hell shaped up pretty quickly. Most of the infernal horde hadn&#8217;t wanted Moloch in power, and those who had been seduced with the trappings of authority got real meek for a long time afterwards. Right in front of Pandemonium, Death opened our end of the Hell Mouth. It was a wormhole, the other end of which Sin established on Earth. It made traveling back and forth an awful lot easier and less time consuming.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt wasn&#8217;t long before Satan came through it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe didn&#8217;t talk for quite a while; days, years perhaps. Time means so little in Hell. But then, inevitably, he found me, sitting on the same bench where he had found me during the construction of Pandemonium.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Can I sit, Mal?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Of course, Luci\u2026 Satan. Of course.&#8221; I scooted over.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m sorry,&#8221; he said as he sat. &#8220;You were always so faithful to me and, at the end there\u2026&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI waved a dismissive hand. &#8220;You saved me some real awkward conversations. &#8216;Sorry Eve, sorry Adam. We really didn&#8217;t mean to condemn you to a short life of misery. Turns out, we&#8217;re evil. Who knew?'&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe gave a short, bitter laugh. &#8220;That&#8217;s so close to what I actually wound up saying, it&#8217;s a little creepy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;m a demon. I specialize in creepy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe sat in silence for a while. It wasn&#8217;t so comfortable as the silences we had shared before eating the fruit, but it was good in its way. Finally, he broke the silence.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;We&#8217;ve got a lot of work ahead of us, Mal. It&#8217;s not what we imagined, but we&#8217;ve still got to do His work.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSuddenly my frustration all rose to the surface. &#8220;Why? Why bother? You saw what I saw. We have to fight against Him, and eternally get defeated. We have to suffer and suffer, and in the end we have to march against Him, and we have to lose. And it&#8217;s all His idea, so why are we going along with it?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I did see what you saw, Mal. But we didn&#8217;t see everything.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What the hell do you mean? We saw everything. We saw all the way to the end of time.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;But we didn&#8217;t see past the end of time. Once He has defeated evil, once the dead rise, once time ends. We didn&#8217;t see what&#8217;s after that.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Satan\u2026Lucy. I think we didn&#8217;t see what&#8217;s after that because there&#8217;s no more us after that.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I don&#8217;t think that. I think the fruit couldn&#8217;t show us anything beyond the end of time because the stuff I made the seed from is time. Time and space. And there won&#8217;t be any time and space then.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Then what will there be?&#8221; I asked quietly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;There will be Him. And there will be us. And he will embrace us. And he will whisper to each of us, &#8216;This is my son, with whom I am well pleased.'&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<b>Epilogue<\/b>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI had been working on a would-be alchemist, drawing his attention to passages in the tomes he was buried in that would make him inclined toward trying to commune with the forces of evil. Frankly, it was a pretty boring gig. Those mystic types are practically begging to be drawn into damnation. It&#8217;s no real challenge, but it is an awful lot of busy work. So naturally, when I came through the Hell Mouth I was ready to pounce on a new assignment.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hey Malecoda,&#8221; Beelzebub said as I was still stepping out of the wormhole and into Hell, &#8220;The boss wants to talk to you.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI thanked him and walked into the hall of Pandemonium. Satan was sitting there, looking pensive.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hi, Mal.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Hiya, boss.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSatan leaned forward, forearms on his knees. &#8220;Mal, I&#8217;ve got a big job. It&#8217;s kind of a strange job, and I think you&#8217;d be perfect for it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Okay,&#8221; I answered. &#8220;Whatever you need. Just tell me what to do.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Well, I got a message from Him. We&#8217;re going to get a visit soon, from a poet. He&#8217;s going to go on a tour of Hell, then go back and write about it. Kind of a &#8216;scared straight&#8217; program for people back on Earth.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nodded and motioned for him to continue.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Mal, I want you to arrange a whole show for this guy. A pageant, you know? With lots of gruesome stuff. But gruesome stuff that&#8217;s got symbolic meaning, and lots of dark irony. Really get imaginative with it, and get all the help you need to make it really pop.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe waited while I digested this.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Well?&#8221; He asked. &#8220;What do you think?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Will you be part of this poet&#8217;s ramble through Hell?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe shrugged. &#8220;That&#8217;s up to you. I can certainly make myself available.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Okay. I think I&#8217;ll make you the last attraction on his tour. But let&#8217;s make you really screwed up. How would you feel about being half-frozen in a lake of ice? Oh, and having three heads?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe laughed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You see?&#8221; he said. &#8220;I knew you were the right guy for the job.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Thanks. I guess I&#8217;ll get started on it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI turned to go.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Oh, and Malecoda?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stopped and turned.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yes?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Give yourself a big role in it too.&#8221; He smiled crookedly. &#8220;Something badass.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"sedate\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">Sedate and Transport<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy K.G. Delmare<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnother stupid dryad was loose in the park.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOf course it had to be a day that I was working, right in the middle of my shift. Of course. I was always the worst at these types of emergencies. Nymphs were quick to say the least, and I&#8217;d always been lacking when it came to athleticism. It was only natural that one spontaneously decided it was going to have a lark on that day.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe&#8217;d previously gotten a pretty good hold on keeping the local dryad population away from us, after a long struggle that began with the park&#8217;s inception in the area. They&#8217;d all but successfully migrated to an empty forest a good few miles from the park, but they&#8217;d continue to occasionally slip past our gates and onto the property, seemingly wanting to at least attempt to reclaim their old stomping grounds.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNormally, it wouldn&#8217;t be that much of a problem. We got all kinds of creatures coming in and out of the place. Harpies would rest in the trees some days. We caught water nymphs slithering around in the lake all the time. That was just life in the park.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe vital difference was that other creatures usually did their thing and got out before closing. The tree nymphs still thought they owned the place, running around and disturbing the other guests.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLook, just catch it and take it back to the forest,\u201d Chief Condor had said before sending me off equipped with nothing but the usual dart gun. \u201cYou know the protocol by now. Sedate and transport.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nYeah, they were easy instructions when you were the one who got to sit behind the desk.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI visualized my two weeks&#8217; notice with particularly imaginative detail as I headed off into the depths of the property. The day I dropped that on Chief Condor&#8217;s desk seemed infinitely far away, relying entirely on my acceptance into my postgraduate program. Then I could look at dirt under microscopes instead of performing wild goose chases and giving directions in it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI&#8217;d become tired of my part-time job long before that day. I always remained low in rank, given a title that sounded more powerful than it was. It was like being an overworked waitress with a different backdrop.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe fantasy of working in the nature that I so loved to study had lost any novelty that it might have previously had, and had been morphed into nothing more than a sign that I wasn&#8217;t moving forward with my life. Nymph wrangling was just a particularly annoying reminder nestled within it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was stalking through an especially wooded section of the park when I first caught a glimpse of her, skipping through between the trees in a way that let me know catching her would take more than the bare minimum in terms of effort. She glanced in my direction for a sliver of a second before darting out of sight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThere it goes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI turned around and grimaced at the voice I, unfortunately, was able to recognize. Cora, who had apparently showed up behind me sometime in the past few minutes, was smiling quite proudly at me when I did. This day really couldn&#8217;t stop improving.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDid you have to be so loud?\u201d I asked. \u201cYou probably just scared her off for me, so thanks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe smirked, looking to be having far more fun with this than I ever could. \u201cPlease. She ran away before I said anything, Heather. As if you&#8217;d have been able to get her, anyway. It was practically playing hopscotch and you just gawked at it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stomped down one of my boots with indignation, ignoring how childish it made me feel to do so. The tiny bit of catharsis was worth it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou try catching it then!\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m tired of playing zookeeper.\u201d When I&#8217;d applied to work at the park, I&#8217;d hoped it would give me the biology-adjacent experience I needed for my studies. Within weeks, I&#8217;d come to realize that ranger duty around here didn&#8217;t give much to my brain besides migraines.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cChief didn&#8217;t tell me to go after the thing,\u201d she argued, walking a bit closer. \u201cI just came here to watch the fun. I&#8217;m on &#8216;general patrol duty,&#8217; anyway, so I can technically be here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI groaned and briefly wondered if I ought to report her to the front office. Surely this counted as slacking off, regardless of her loopholes. The more I thought about it, though, it didn&#8217;t feel worth it. They never took me seriously up front. If anything, I&#8217;d get scolded for Avoiding a Highly Important Duty, Ranger Kim.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMaybe I could use a sidekick, anyway.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIf you&#8217;re gonna watch, then you better help,\u201d I said, knowing that she probably wouldn&#8217;t. Cora didn&#8217;t seem any better equipped than I was for this, so the only benefit I could really hope to glean was company.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI headed off further into the trees without bothering to see if she&#8217;d follow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo does this kind of thing usually happen around here?\u201d Cora asked about five minutes later, initially prompting some confusion on my part. The nymphs were complained about with something like consistency around the property.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOh right. She&#8217;d only started to work here a few weeks ago. The nymphs ran around here annoyingly often, but not often enough for her to have seen one just yet.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cToo much,\u201d I answered, willing her to go back to the main building. \u201cThey used to live here, and now management freaks out whenever they come back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy don&#8217;t you just let them go and leave them alone? It&#8217;s not like you can catch them. I dunno why they even sent you in the first place.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI felt the potent urge to turn around and get her with one of the tranquilizer darts, but then they&#8217;d know it was me. I wasn&#8217;t about to get put on toilet cleaning duty because of Cora, especially after a day on Dryad Roundup.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIf we let them go, they never leave,\u201d I said tersely. \u201cThey start playing around in the trees and dumping flowers on people.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat doesn&#8217;t sound terrible to me. Kind of annoying, but no big deal.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat&#8217;s the least of it,\u201d I said. \u201cHave you ever caught some guy and one of those things fooling around by the duck pond? Because I have. Can&#8217;t say that I recommend it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCora burst into laughter, not seeming particularly sympathetic to my plight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThanks,\u201d I mumbled.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh my God, that&#8217;s so gross!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI&#8217;m the one who saw it, Cora. I&#8217;m aware.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stopped mid-step as I heard the distinct sound of a woman giggling. It could have just as easily been one of the guests off in the distance, but I was willing to cling to any lead I&#8217;d get.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIf I didn&#8217;t track this thing down by the end of the day, Chief Condor would have penalized me one way or another. I motivated myself with the image of the way people treated the public toilets around this place.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCora stirred beside me. \u201cWhat are we \u2013\u201c\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShh!\u201d I raised my hand towards her, and she quieted. The laughter bounced through the trees again. I frowned.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt sounded far away, but it was definitely a nymph. When they laughed, it almost sounded like wind. It made you think you were imagining the noise, and I was all but sure that they did it on purpose. I willed my ears to focus harder, and after a few moments, something that sounded closer to singing came from that same direction.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe&#8217;s up north,\u201d I whispered, looking towards the melody. \u201cBe quiet. Don&#8217;t step too loudly. Watch out for any branches, things that can crunch and stuff.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cRight&#8230;\u201d Cora followed my slightly awkward stance as I crept towards onward, listening for any notable changes as I went.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAfter a few minutes of excruciatingly careful walking, we made it to a small clearing where a narrow, trickling stream ran straight through. Our fugitive was sitting at the edge of the water, her back to us as she busied herself.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe was still singing, tangling her fingers into the grass and taking out wildflowers to braid into her hair. Their stems grew long once they were tied in, rooting themselves to her scalp.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe nymphs taking pieces of the park back for themselves like that was a sort trophy grab, or so Chief Condor told us. They never seemed to really get past their relocation. It was their way of taking home back, in leaves and petals.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIs she naked?\u201d Cora whispered into my ear, and I jumped. I&#8217;d nearly forgotten that she&#8217;d followed me here.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBe! Quiet!\u201d I hissed. \u201cAnd try not to scare me. This is gonna take focus.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI lifted the dart gun up slowly, my heart rapidly banging into my bones and my fingers shaking to a frustrating degree.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCora was right. I really wasn&#8217;t suited for this. I was a science geek, not a woodsman. The only reason that Chief Condor assigned me was because Ross, who was over six feet tall and ran track for his college, was on vacation. He would have had her back in their forest by now, no doubt. I was eternally on the stout side with poor grades in gym on my old report cards.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut I&#8217;d been there when the front office got the complaint, and evidently that was enough to take me there.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI took a deep, quiet breath and I could feel Cora holding hers in anticipation beside me. Just as I was convincing myself that I could do my assignment well, my index finger poised over the trigger, the nymph turned.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe surprise ruined the whole thing. I lost my nerve when our eyes met, quickly jerking the gun to the ground and shooting a dart into the grass, much like an idiot.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy target stood up without much speed and lifted a hand to cover her mouth. She was laughing at me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh shit,\u201d Cora whispered. \u201cIs she gonna eat us or something?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCora, please,\u201d I mumbled.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe nymph didn&#8217;t stray from her spot, even as I held my weapon still. It felt like a challenge \u2013 telling me without words that she knew I didn&#8217;t have the gumption to knock her out and take her back.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI would prove her wrong. I was not going to be wiping down urinals over this. I lifted the gun again, trying to force my hands to steady.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHeather!\u201d Cora whined without concern for volume. \u201cYou&#8217;re gonna make her mad!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMaybe I would.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI aimed for her thigh, trying to make it known that I wasn&#8217;t a joke to her or anyone. The whole affair seemed to have become curiously personal.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe continued to stay motionless, and I found myself hesitating, with the target stopped right under my sights. I could have had this mess done with a twitch, go back to the main building and take an admittedly late lunch break.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe thing is, she was staring at me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe laughter had left her face, and she was eyeing me with an unambiguous curiosity. There was no fear, however, in any crevice of it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt made me wary. Maybe this was deliberate. Nymphs were smart, that was how they got on the park grounds unnoticed in the first place. Then again, this could have been her first time trying to get back.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat thought gave me abrupt pause. Shooting her suddenly seemed cruel.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cUgh.\u201d I lowered it, staring back at her now.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHeather!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shushed Cora, not bothering to look back at her. \u201cWhat&#8217;s up?\u201d I shouted across the distance, not knowing if she&#8217;d answer. \u201cWhy&#8217;re you giving me eyes, huh?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe said nothing, just shifted playfully back and forth on her bare feet. Her lips curled up in a laugh again, and I frowned back at her. She wasn&#8217;t fazed, but gave me a single meaningful look before skipping off towards another pathway.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI only just noticed then that we were reaching the farthest borders of the property, where most guests didn&#8217;t even go outside of special events.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cUgh, Heather!\u201d Cora said, slapping one of her legs in disappointment. \u201cYou let her go again!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo one said you had to come, y&#8217;know,\u201d I mumbled, staring off after her. She hadn&#8217;t run nearly as fast as she&#8217;d been earlier.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWell, now I wanna get this done,\u201d she said. \u201cC&#8217;mon, let&#8217;s go!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI was gonna do that anyway,\u201d I answered. \u201cBesides, I think she wants me to follow her.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat?\u201d Cora didn&#8217;t move for a moment as I began walking off, over the stream and towards the trees. \u201cWhat do you mean!? Did she speak to you in nymph code or something? Because I don&#8217;t think I heard it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt&#8217;s intuition&#8230;or something,\u201d I said as she finally started to follow me. \u201cNow hurry up, I&#8217;m not gonna wait for you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nReally, I had no idea what it was \u2013 but I couldn&#8217;t bear to walk away from it then.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAfter a few minutes of trekking through increasingly thick trees, I began to worry that I was just falling into some trap. Maybe I&#8217;d stumble into a weird Nymph Seduction Nest and I&#8217;d live in a thicket surrounded by beautiful naked things for all of eternity. Granted, this wasn&#8217;t the worst possible outcome I could think of, but I liked my life outside of the crummy park job.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nJust when I was thinking that I ought to let go of the desperation and submit to toilet duty, her singing started to echo through the trees again.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh man, that&#8217;s &#8211;\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCora, shut up.\u201d I grabbed her by the shoulder, as if it would hit a covert mute button. I listened like before, trying to track the distance. She was much closer than the last time I&#8217;d heard her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI glanced ahead, looking at a darkened corner of the wood, filled with even more trees and partially blocked by bushes. \u201cShe&#8217;s in there,\u201d I assessed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cGreat,\u201d Cora said. \u201cI hate the dark. Always have.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor once, her complaining had some validation to it. The area did look a little spooky, and the setting sun wasn&#8217;t helping. The bushes alone seemed like they could scrape up anyone trying to get through. I turned to Cora, holding the dart gun close to me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI&#8217;ll go on on my own,\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAlright.\u201d She paused, and her face suddenly shifted into a shade of anxiety. \u201cHeather, that means I&#8217;m gonna be stuck out here by myself!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shushed her again, and she pressed her lips together in a tight, worried grimace.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI&#8217;ll go in on my own,\u201d I repeated. \u201cI need you to stay here and keep watch. If I don&#8217;t come back in about&#8230;twenty minutes, then go get help. You understand?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe looked as if she very much did not want to, but she only took one, nervous breath before nodding in my direction.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBe careful, please,\u201d she begged.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was a good thing she was terrified, because it forced me to be brave on her behalf. I never knew nymphs to be particularly dangerous creatures, but then, I didn&#8217;t know much about them at all. Maybe this was how they sucked in their prey, calling out siren songs and attracting vulnerable losers with short legs.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhatever. I&#8217;d already come too far to convince myself to back out. It seemed like a fitting way to to meet my end, taken out by one of the nymphs that helped make a miserable job even more intolerable for me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBesides, should I manage to survive, there were always lawsuits.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOnce I&#8217;d gotten through the bushes, the path through was dark, but straight. Her singing grew closer with every step. I took my flashlight off of my belt, following the path and keeping the light close to the ground to avoid startling anything.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI held the dart gun in my other hand, trying to ready myself. The sun was dipping lower, even beyond the shade of the trees. Supposedly, there were no particularly dangerous creatures on the park property. There was no direct proof of that, though. They could just tell us that so we don&#8217;t run off after ranger orientation.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI felt like I&#8217;d been walking for a good while when I finally spotted another clearing. It would have been a struggle to miss it, casting a burst of natural light onto the trail. I tucked my flashlight away and kept my cautious pace, keeping a loose grip on the gun as I approached the opening.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer singing was as clear as I&#8217;d ever heard it, but there was harmony to it now. It took me a moment as my eyes adjusted to the light, but she was there \u2013 alone, dancing around a single, lonely tree. I frowned, wondering what it was doing all by itself, firmly divorced from the rest of the woods. Her eyes caught mine, and I felt myself panic for a brief second. Without apparent worry, she just continued to dance in the same circle.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI walked forward, coming closer until I was near enough to reach out and touch her as she moved. The closer I got, the less sure I was of what I&#8217;d actually do. I kept the gun at my side, not wanting to scare her off with aiming just yet.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs I felt the usual urge to take her out, do my duty and move on like I&#8217;d planned, I also began to submit to something much more bizarre.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe look she&#8217;d given me a few minutes before had stuck to me, taking over my anger and dissolving it into curiosity. Every inch that I moved closer to her took away from my willpower to act as instructed. I didn&#8217;t want to shoot down the mystery. Evidently, this miserable job couldn&#8217;t kill my scientific curiosity as easily as my morale.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe kept singing without any regard for my presence, and finally looped her legs around the base of the tree and reached up towards its branches.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHuh?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe bark melted away before me, disintegrating into glowing bits of light as it fell and morphed into another creature that looked just like her. The first nymph&#8217;s legs were still wrapped around their waist, formerly the tree trunk. The other stared down at her for just a moment, eyes affectionate and excited, before she untangled herself from them and the two began to move together.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was silent as they danced as a pair, with the other, harmonizing voice now much louder than it had been when I arrived. It became clear that the routine she&#8217;d been doing around the tree had been missing a partner, and it now looked much more whole with the two of them together. I felt like I was watching a ballet, suspended in time while they didn&#8217;t bother to heed me once.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI remembered hearing about something like this, vaguely, in one of my introductory courses. I was involved in ecology, not humanoids, so nymphs weren&#8217;t something I learned about once. But I did remember one thing \u2013 nymph mate dances were intensely private, and completely meaningful. When two nymphs moved together like this, it was as sacred as their behavior got.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen they stopped moving, they came back to the exact spot where she had awoken the other, and she pulled the stream&#8217;s wildflowers from her hair. The stems twisted around each other in her hands, and the other nymph took them into their own. They stared at her all the while, that same enamored look deep in their eyes. The new dryad pressed the flowers against their chest, and the first nymph again wrapped her legs around her partner.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was then that they finally looked to me. I dropped my gun on instinct, holding my hands up in a quick show of surrender. I&#8217;d lost sight of the fact that I&#8217;d even had it until they acknowledged me. Any desire to nab my target had thoroughly evaporated by that point, too transfixed by the sight I&#8217;d unwittingly come upon.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThey smiled, and the first nymph linked her arms around her partner&#8217;s neck as she balanced herself upon them. She looked to her partner, and their eyes were on each other again. They pressed their mouth to her neck, and she sang a single, high note before the light came back.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTheir skin returned to bark, and the tree that she&#8217;d been dancing around reformed from their bodies, now doubled in its previous size. The flowers she&#8217;d brought were now bursting from a crook in the branches where her partner had held them, and similar ones were growing from the top. I stared for an indeterminate amount of time as my shock took over.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHea-ther!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI didn&#8217;t register Cora&#8217;s voice at first. The moment seemed to come back to reality in pieces, feature by feature. I couldn&#8217;t remember if the sun had been setting when I&#8217;d arrived, but it evidently had begun to descend below the trees nonetheless.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cRanger Kim! Are you in there?\u201d I whipped my head around, finally jumping back to my head when I heard the distinct boom of Chief Condor calling me from down the path I&#8217;d walked on the way here.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI began to walk back to meet them, but soon enough he, Cora and a group of my coworkers were at the entrance of the clearing with flashlights in hand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cRanger Kim!\u201d Chief Condor shouted. \u201cWe were told you were in danger. What happened? Where&#8217;s the dryad?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI&#8230;\u201d I glanced back at the tree, whose petals were now floating gently in the air that was quickly turning to night. I noticed a spot beyond the clearing, where the tiniest hint of the park&#8217;s north bordering fence was visible in the distance.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cShe ran off, Chief,\u201d I said finally, going back to eyeing the tree. Part of me wondered if they&#8217;d reanimate, revealing themselves to my coworkers. And yet, that felt incredibly impossible, even as their shared form laid plain before us all. \u201cShe probably escaped into the suburbs or something like that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHmm,\u201d Chief Condor studied the distance for just a moment, not seeming to have trouble with my excuse. \u201cSounds like she&#8217;s gonna head back to their woods then. Either way, it&#8217;s out of our hands, and that&#8217;s just as good as capturing her, I guess. Saves us the trouble of bringing her back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nodded.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIs something wrong, Ranger Kim?\u201d he asked. \u201cShe didn&#8217;t attack you, did she? Do you need to go to the medical building?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI realized I was still staring at the tree, my abandoned dart gun laying in the grass nearby. I hurriedly went to grab it, going back to the search party and trying to compose myself. \u201cNo, no,\u201d I said. \u201cI&#8217;m good. Just kinda winded.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat&#8217;s fair enough. It has been a few hours.\u201d He still seemed suspicious, but not enough to probe the matter. \u201cWell&#8230;Come on, then. Let&#8217;s head back. I had to leave Ranger White running the front office, and you know that&#8217;s gonna be a mess if we don&#8217;t get back soon.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWithout anything more, he turned and headed back down the path. My colleagues began to follow, looking a bit put off by the lack of climactic drama, but Cora waited on me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat happened?\u201d she whispered as she walked in my direction. I turned back to the tree once again for just a moment, and I took one of the flowers that fell from the branches. It seemed to grow bigger in my palm.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI&#8217;ll have to tell you later,\u201d I said quietly. She looked up at the tree, then back at my hand. She nodded before putting an arm around my shoulders, and we took our time as we walked back towards the path out.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI minded the trees.\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"alchemy\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">The Science of Alchemy<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy Jim Meeks-Johnson<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Math doesn\u2019t lie,&#8221; I insisted.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Well then, maybe you mistranslated it,&#8221; Haley replied.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;No. I&#8217;ve found a second way to conceptualize the world.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI&#8217;d driven up the western coast of Michigan with my girlfriend. We both deserved a break from twelve-hour days of research for our fellowships at Harvard.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHundreds of walkers streamed by us. Once a year on Labor Day, they open the five-mile-long Mackinac Bridge over the straights between Lake Michigan and Lake Huron to pedestrians. Folks probably assumed we had stopped to admire the unobstructed view, but I was in a different world. I held a scribbled page of equations up in the wind. &#8220;Look at how beautiful this is. All three of these variables cancel, leaving a second entropic local minimum&#8211;call it EM-2. There must be a set of simple real-life physical concepts behind it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley pulled away the strands of auburn hair the crosswind had blown across her face. &#8220;Okay, Martin, now you&#8217;re talking crazy. Since when was your handwriting beautiful?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Smartass,&#8221; I said and pointed to the top of the paper. &#8220;Look. This is Boltzmann&#8217;s Law. It equates the entropy in a system with the randomness in a system&#8217;s microstates.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI moved my finger down an inch. &#8220;Boltzmann&#8217;s law is promiscuous&#8211;it applies to any physical property&#8211;but it&#8217;s normally used for pressure and temperature like this.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI moved my finger down again. &#8220;But here I have an orthogonal set of concepts. These equations play together so nicely with Boltzmann&#8217;s Law that it has to mean something. A second local minimum implies there is a second way of conceptualizing the world.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You sound like the Ojibwa medicine man who gave me the Petoskey stone. White men run so fast they have forgotten they can fly.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;No this is science, not superstition.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And when he called you a great winged warrior of grandmother Earth, that was superstition too?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Of course. That jumble of words could mean anything. I&#8217;m talking about a mathematical truth. Though I admit, I&#8217;m in the stage Einstein was before he understood the implications of his equations of space-time. But eventually, he came up with things like mass increasing with acceleration and gravitational lensing. And it all began with a simple set of beautiful, formal equations like these.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;So now you&#8217;re comparing yourself to Einstein?&#8221; Haley said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That\u2019s not the point. New laws of science mean new technology. New technology means new inventions for the benefit of everyone.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley waved me aside. &#8220;Chill out. I can see this is important to you, but can we start walking again? My headache is coming back. Maybe we shouldn\u2019t have left the Petoskey at the motel after all.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;See,&#8221; I said. &#8220;That&#8217;s how superstitions spread. Now you think you have evidence for the Petoskey stone curing your headaches. But if you hadn\u2019t gotten a headache, you wouldn\u2019t have counted that as evidence the stone didn\u2019t work.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen we got back to the motel, Haley&#8217;s chronic headache went away. We changed clothes and went out for dinner, leaving the stone behind. Her headache came back. We retired for the evening. Her headache went away again. Haley was excited, but I knew better. Coincidence. Random noise. These things happen.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe next morning, I set up a double-blind experiment to prove that the stone did not possess magical healing powers. I got two identical boxes from the McDonalds next door and, out of Haley&#8217;s sight, put the Petoskey stone in one and another equally sized rock in the other. Then out of my sight, Haley put a sticker on one box, so I didn\u2019t know which was which. I used a coin toss to pick which box to bring close to Haley&#8217;s head first, behind a blanket, so she didn\u2019t know which box it was.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAfter ten trials, the score was Petoskey 10, other rock 0. I couldn\u2019t believe it. I got two different boxes and made her do ten more, then ten more after that. The stone really did cure headaches.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe hurried to the town plaza where we&#8217;d met the Ojibwa, but he was nowhere in sight. We asked around, but nobody knew who he was. The owner of a local bookstore said he&#8217;d noticed the medicine man hanging around yesterday, but had never seen him before that. We browsed in the bookstore while we waited for the medicine man to come back. He never did, but we found some interesting books.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIn the antique books section, Haley found an illustrated Hamlet. She opened it to a picture of some men talking while a ghost lurked nearby. &#8220;How appropriate, don&#8217;t you think?&#8221; she said. &#8220;&#8216;There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Alchemy,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI had opened a fat tome titled &#8220;The Science of Alchemy.&#8221; I read a passage from the introduction. &#8220;You must become as a child and encounter the world for the first time, for that which is fundamental to alchemy is not in the ordinary way men perceive the world.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI leafed through the book. How to select the right plants and minerals. How to distill concentrated solutions. Recipes I didn\u2019t understand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Alchemy is the answer,&#8221; I said. &#8220;Alchemy had a well-developed, empirical, alternative way of conceptualizing the world before science came along and displaced it. Alchemy will help me develop EM-2 theory.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was distilling essence of sumac while a batch of tin from my jerry-rigged smelter cooled on a bed of sea-salt crystals when I got the call to the dean&#8217;s office. Highly unusual. Maybe he wanted to congratulate me on my upcoming article in the Journal of Mathematical Physics.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe dean waved a copy of the student newspaper at me. &#8220;We thought we were admitting a brilliant theoretical physicist to the University, but it turns out you are just a crazy who knows some math.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe opened the newspaper and pointed to a picture of me with my tin smelter and the headline, &#8220;The Alchemist of Cruft Hall.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You&#8217;re making the physics department a laughingstock,&#8221; the dean said grimly. &#8220;Major donors have complained. The President of the University is alarmed. No more alchemy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was starting to sweat. &#8220;I understand the irony of using pre-science to advance modern science, but it&#8217;s better than starting from scratch. Some of the rules for EM-2 theory ought to occur in alchemy, just as some of the ideas behind the scientific method did. And, empirically, I may already be onto something with my old-fashioned tin smelting. Sometimes I get a batch of tin that cures Haley&#8217;s headaches, sometimes I don\u2019t. I&#8217;m trying to figure out what makes the difference.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That&#8217;s another thing.&#8221; The dean was getting red in the face. &#8220;Your girlfriend&#8217;s headaches are not science. They are not independently verifiable. You two have probably worked up some kind of parlor trick.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe had me there. It had turned out that Haley&#8217;s Petoskey stone only cured her headaches when I was around.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI gulped and said, &#8220;Math doesn\u2019t lie. I have a proof that there is more than one way to aggregate microstate probabilities for atoms&#8211;like grouping people by their favorite ice cream flavor instead of by gender. We&#8217;ll find different laws for group behavior. We&#8217;ll benefit humanity in ways we can&#8217;t yet imagine.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;There is no &#8216;we.&#8217; There is no alchemy at Harvard.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You&#8217;ll see. Six months just isn&#8217;t enough time. My physics fellowship is good for another year and a half, and I have a good start on real-world implications, so I should be able to demonstrate proof of a second local minimum for entropy to your satisfaction by then.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe dean slammed his fist on the desk. &#8220;Maybe I haven&#8217;t made myself clear. You had a fellowship in physics&#8211;not alchemy. You will leave this building and never come back.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;But&#8211;&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe dean pointed to the door. His face was set. His eyes hard. &#8220;I have no choice. You have no choice.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI found two University security officers in the hallway with a cartload of my stuff. They made me push the cart.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nProfessor Albright, my faculty sponsor, caught me on the way out. &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry, Martin. You&#8217;ve been snookered all right. Is there anything I can do?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Get my fellowship back.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe laughed as if I were joking. &#8220;Besides that. Have you thought about what you are going to do next?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNext? My head was still trying to grasp what had already happened. But I didn\u2019t want to give up on EM-2 theory. It had so much potential for revolutionary new materials and devices. Alchemy still seemed like the most promising entry point. Where could I study alchemy?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Actually,&#8221; I said. &#8220;I could use a letter of recommendation to the Vatican Library from a recognized scholar like you.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAlbright stiffened. &#8220;I had to sign an affidavit saying I&#8217;d have nothing to do with alchemy ever again. I don\u2019t know what would happen if word of that got back to the dean.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You can predate it.&#8221; I was desperate. &#8220;You said you wanted to help.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe frowned. &#8220;All right, but don&#8217;t ask me for anything else. I don\u2019t know what you&#8217;ve stirred up here, but I don\u2019t want any part of it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI pushed my cart of boxes out of the building and stacked them on the curb. I didn&#8217;t have access to a car or a utility drone capable of lifting forty-pound boxes, and I lived seven blocks away. I estimated it would take me six trips to carry everything to my apartment, leaving the rest unguarded while I schlepped back and forth. I called Haley for help.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe took longer to come than I expected and arrived in tears. &#8220;I can&#8217;t believe it. They terminated my fellowship too. They accused me of faking data. They accused me of colluding with you to prove alchemy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLocation was the only good feature of the apartment Haley and I rented in Rome. We had to walk up four floors of stairs in a rundown building to get to our room. There wasn\u2019t space enough in the kitchen for both my alchemy apparatus and meals. But the apartment overlooked the west bank of the Tiber River, just a few blocks from the Vatican Library.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFortunately, the Vatican Library was phenomenal. I could request practically any obscure document, and assistant librarians would bring me a copy. I&#8217;d made more progress in understanding the theory of alchemy in the last month than in the previous six, and I was making parallel progress on the equations governing EM-2 theory. A basic assumption of modern science is that the fundamental laws of physics are independent of location in spacetime. But I proved that was not true in EM-2 theory, and that location affected alchemical transformations.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOne morning at breakfast with Haley, I was particularly optimistic. &#8220;Yesterday I asked for everything Roger Bacon had written. The librarians brought me a basketful of books and papers, and I found an unpublished manuscript that referenced a pseudonym Bacon had used to circumvent the church\u2019s censorship after he became a monk.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley sipped her Americano. &#8220;Who&#8217;s Roger Bacon?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nearly choked on my eggs, but in all fairness, she knew a lot of things I didn\u2019t. &#8220;He&#8217;s a famous English alchemist who is often cited as the father of the scientific method. Anyway, I got hold of his work under the pseudonym, and it explained clearly how to identify Alchemical Mercury and Sulfur.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley set her cup down with a clatter and shrugged. &#8220;What\u2019s the big deal? Everybody knows how to identify mercury and sulfur.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I said Alchemical mercury and sulfur. Not the same at all. Alchemical Mercury and Sulfur are invisible essences that can belong to a variety of chemical compounds. Bacon says most locations tend to be high in Alchemical Sulfur, which interferes with many alchemical transformations. I&#8217;m only halfway through his manuscript. I can hardly wait for the Library to open today.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe finished breakfast, and I took the sunny sidewalk to the Vatican Library, where my day dimmed considerably.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe guard on duty stiffened as I approached. He barely glanced at my ID. &#8220;I\u2019m sorry. No admission.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;But I always come here,&#8221; I said. &#8220;I\u2019m on the approved scholar list. Just check.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You are no longer approved. Your credentials were revoked.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI blinked dumbly while his words soaked in. Then I gritted my teeth. I had a copy of Albright\u2019s letter with my research materials and went straight to the head librarian\u2019s office to appeal.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOver an hour later, an officer wearing a Swiss Guard uniform burst into the room. &#8220;I&#8217;m General Bolitho. You appealed for access to the library?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;General?&#8221; I stammered out. &#8220;I thought Colonel was the highest rank in the Swiss Guard.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You know less than you think you do.&#8221; His dark, empty eyes sent a shiver up my spine. &#8220;The Chief Librarian does not determine admissions to the Library. I do. You are studying Roger Bacon?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yes,&#8221; I said, taken aback. How did General Bolitho know this? Why? The dean&#8217;s reference to major donors came back unbidden.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;And what are your credentials for the study of history?&#8221; the general asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Um. I guess I\u2019m self-taught.&#8221; I realized too late where that answer would lead, so I tried to deflect. &#8220;But I have a Ph.D. in physics from Stanford. I\u2019m studying science, not history. I\u2019m interested in re-creating the pre-scientific phenomena that alchemists studied.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;What phenomena, exactly?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;The transmutation of lead into gold, for one,&#8221; I said, &#8220;since Alchemists wrote about that in detail. Their recipes include variables modern science routinely excludes, like the alignment of the moon and planets, or the purity of the person and place of the experiment. They describe a golden elixir that brings purity to anything it touches, turning lead to gold, and sick or aged bodies into healthy youth. Their claims are likely exaggerated, but I think there may be a new scientific principle at work in their recipes.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;You have made this magic potion?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I&#8217;ve tried, but so far without success,&#8221; I replied. &#8220;But it&#8217;s not magic. It&#8217;s science&#8211;built on an alternative solution to minimum entropy as required by Boltzmann&#8217;s Law.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBolitho shook his head. I could see that he&#8217;d already made up his mind. &#8220;Go back to America. Study cosmic rays or carbon nanotubes. Any fool can see that turning a lump of lead into a much denser lump of gold would violate the laws of physics. Your appeal is denied. The Vatican Library is off-limits to you&#8211;permanently.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI opened my mouth to object, but my objections collapsed. Bolitho was right. Even if I found new laws of physics, I couldn\u2019t ignore the old ones. Converting a lead object to gold would nearly double its mass.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shuffled out of the library in a daze. I went by the post office and picked up our mail. I stopped at a caf\u00e9 for a glass or two of Chianti. Eventually, I found myself back at our apartment. Haley was doing something with a map of Italy on the kitchen floor.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Canned again,&#8221; I announced. &#8220;I give up.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;That\u2019s not like you,&#8221; she said. &#8220;What&#8217;s the matter?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI grabbed some wine and glasses from the counter and slid to the floor beside her. &#8220;The Vatican Library revoked my research privileges, but the real problem is that I&#8217;ve wasted a year of my life. There\u2019s a fundamental flaw in the idea of converting lead to gold. Lead isn&#8217;t as dense as gold, and if the density changes, that will violate the law of conservation of energy. My theory was supposed to add to regular science, not contradict it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI poured a glass of wine as Haley said, &#8220;What about uranium? Isn\u2019t that more dense than lead?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah, but uranium has the opposite problem. It\u2019s more dense than gold.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThen I stopped pouring. There was no requirement to start with lead. Tungsten might work. Tungsten had a density almost identical to gold, and thirteenth-century tin smelters knew about tungsten, or Wolfram as they called it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI pulled my legs under me to stand up for the espresso machine. &#8220;Thanks. You solved the problem.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley laughed. &#8220;Anytime. Who&#8217;s that letter from.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI&#8217;d forgotten about the mail I&#8217;d picked up. The envelope on top had my name and address printed in block letters and no return address. I ripped it open and read:\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<i>Be careful. Some bloke who claimed to be an FBI agent came round Cruft Hall asking for you, and if you&#8217;d left any notes behind. I think the dean told him you went to Rome. I checked. He&#8217;s not FBI. <\/i>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe hair on the back of my neck prickled. &#8220;It has to be from Professor Albright. But who would want my notes?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley&#8217;s eyes had dilated. She squeezed my arm. &#8220;The same people you had you expelled from Harvard and from the Vatican Library. Whoever it is, they are mean and powerful. I don\u2019t want to be around these people.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI started cramming my notes and alchemical compounds into my backpack. &#8220;If there&#8217;s a conspiracy to suppress alchemy, that&#8217;s all the more reason to get proof. General Bolitho knows I&#8217;ve been experimenting. They&#8217;ll want my equipment. My books. My notes. We have to leave the apartment now and not come back.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA week later, I was casing the church of Saint Mary Major in Ilchester, England.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley and I had splurged on a night out in Rome and then fled Italy. I&#8217;d proposed marriage to her. She said yes, and I bought her an engagement ring with a tungsten band&#8211;a symbol, not just of our commitment to each other, but of an unconventional approach to the world. I had the ring engraved with the beginning of our favorite quote from Shakespeare: &#8220;There are more things&#8230;&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIlchester was where Roger Bacon had lived before joining the Franciscans. Not much remained of thirteenth-century Ilchester, but the church of Saint Mary Major was a medieval stone edifice built to last. I was betting that Bacon had cleaned the tower of Alchemical Sulfur and hoping that it remained clear after all these years. A slim chance, maybe, but the most likely location I could think of to prepare an elixir to transmute tungsten into gold. I carried a tungsten rod engraved with an elaborate seal by the same jeweler who did our engagement ring. When I returned with a gold rod, and he certified the seal on it, I&#8217;d have the proof I needed for EM-2 theory.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA conjunction of the moon would occur in four days at 1:13 am&#8211;a line drawn from the center of the moon to the center of the sun would pass right through Ilchester. The old texts agreed that interference from celestial currents of Alchemical Sulfur was minimal at conjunction.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe parson lived in the lower half of the tower. The Archbishop of Canterbury had sealed the upper half in the 1400s. I had to figure out how to get inside that tower at conjunction.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI took the Saint Mary Major tour three times. Then I spent the last of our savings on some climbing gear and burglary tools, including a large bolt cutter with crowbar handles. I packed the tools and my alchemy supplies into two backpacks&#8211;one for me, one for Haley.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe night of conjunction was foggy. The moisture in the air brought out the smells of spring in the churchyard&#8211;crocus flowers, rosemary, and spruce. Haley said a headache was coming on. We had left her Petoskey stone behind. I still didn\u2019t know how it worked, but it might interfere with the alchemical background. I plucked a bright yellow crocus flower and laced it into her hair. &#8220;Saffron comes from crocus stamens, and Moorish alchemists believed wearing saffron brought good luck.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe used a small drone to hook a rope ladder over the parapet of the church tower and climbed to the roof. An ancient trapdoor led to a wooden ladder fitted to the wall with wooden pegs. The LED lanterns on our headbands illuminated shelves of dust-covered bottles, books, and copper pots.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSomething on the far side of the room glinted in the light. We crossed to a workbench full of clean glassware and bottles of colored liquids, some of which bore labels with UPC codes. A black rubber hose snaked from a Bunsen burner to a propane tank under the bench.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Someone had been doing alchemy here very recently,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I can&#8217;t lift this alone,&#8221; she said as she tugged at an oak beam on the floor&#8211;the crossbeam for the door to the inner stairway.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI helped wrestle the beam across the door to make sure no one interrupted us. Then I unpacked my handcrafted ingredients and laid them out on the workbench. What remained was simple: combine the ingredients in the right order in a bath of fire during the conjunction of the moon at a location depleted of background Alchemical Sulfur. The result should be a golden elixir capable of transmuting tungsten to gold.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was 1:06. Seven minutes to go.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA heavy pounding shook the door. &#8220;This is Her Majesty&#8217;s police. You are trespassing. Surrender immediately.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI couldn\u2019t stop now. I might never have another chance like this to prove the value of alchemy and the EM-2 theory equations. I lit the Bunsen burner and poured my liquids one by one into an open beaker over the flame. The many-colored fluids combined to form a clear liquid, presumably via chemical reactions of the usual kind, but I wasn&#8217;t chemist enough to be sure. I was reaching for the dry ingredients when I heard a buzzing sound. I glanced over to see the point of a saber saw poking out between the planks of the door. It began cutting through the oak crossbar.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Break the blade,&#8221; I shouted to Haley. &#8220;Whack it with the bolt cutter.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhile Haley wrestled with the saber saw, I sifted the last three powders into the beaker. The liquid became cloudy and then cleared again. This was wrong. All accounts were of a yellow elixir.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI heard two loud whacks and the twang of a saw blade under stress. The buzzing noise stopped. A minute later, Haley called from the door. &#8220;They\u2019ve started making an awful whining noise. It&#8217;s making my headache worse.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe elixir started to steam. Maybe the heat would change its color, or maybe the conjunction of the moon, but I doubted it. More likely a missing ingredient in my recipe. My watch said 1:11. Two minutes to go.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSomething crunched through the door. I turned my head in time to see a drill bit retreat from a hole in the crossbar. Six or eight of those holes in a row would be as effective as the cut of a saw.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Catch the drill bit with the bolt cutter,&#8221; I yelled to Haley.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy elixir started to boil. My watch blinked 1:12. I began to sweat for no good reason. &#8220;It&#8217;s still not the right color. Something is wrong.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley groaned with frustration. &#8220;This bolt cutter is too heavy for me. Two more holes and they\u2019ll be in.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was 1:13. Conjunction.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy hand trembled as I dropped the tungsten test rod into the beaker. Clear elixir. Silvery rod. No gold.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I need more time to think.&#8221; I ran to the door and took the bolt cutters from Haley just in time to grab the drill bit with them. I squeezed as hard as I could. It was a thick drill bit. Hardened steel. There was no way I could cut it, but at least I could keep them from pulling it back and drilling the final hole.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley went over to the lab bench and sniffed the elixir. The crocus flower in her hair was the only yellow thing in the area.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe bit in my bolt cutters came free, and I fell backward. The whine of the drill resumed. They must be using another bit. They&#8217;d be inside in a few seconds.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe crocus! Maybe saffron was more than just good luck to alchemists. &#8220;Haley! Drop the flower in the beaker.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe looked surprised, but yanked the flower out of her hair and threw it in.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe beaker belched and shot a spray of hot liquid out onto Haley&#8217;s hand. She yelped and fell backward into me, just as the weakened crossbeam gave way, and two Bobbies with Tasers barged in. &#8220;Hands in the air. Step away from the table.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI&#8217;d never realized how ugly and threatening the business end of a Taser could be. We raised our hands.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe police captain looked familiar, but I couldn\u2019t quite place him. He went straight to the workbench, reached into my beaker with a pair of tongs, and pulled out the tungsten rod. &#8220;Not science. Magic,&#8221; he said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI knew that voice. &#8220;General Bolitho! What are you doing in a Bobbie uniform?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe laughed&#8211;a dry laugh devoid of joy. &#8220;I have acquired many positions over the centuries.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBefore I could process the implications of Bolitho&#8217;s words, Haley gasped and whispered, &#8220;You did it.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI followed her gaze to the workbench. My world stopped. The rod glinted gold. Tungsten transmuted to gold. Alchemy worked. EM-2 theory was proven. But Bolitho had the proof.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBolitho dropped several more tungsten rods one by one into the pale yellow elixir. They turned to gold, up to number twelve. The next one stayed gray, as if the power of the elixir was exhausted.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe put the gold rods into a pouch.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;By English law,&#8221; Bolitho said. &#8220;You are a felon. The 1403 declaration by King Henry IV prohibiting the multiplication of gold in England is still in effect. Your false gold is forfeit to the crown, and you face the death penalty.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;England hasn\u2019t had the death penalty for decades.&#8221; I tried to sound assertive, but my voice echoed thin and reedy against stone walls laid down centuries ago.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBolitho&#8217;s mouth curled in a wry smile. &#8220;I will choose which of England&#8217;s laws to enforce. I am a peer of Roger Bacon and a guardian of alchemical knowledge. Don\u2019t you get it yet? Bacon invented science to limit the scope of intellectual inquiry. Later, our friend Goethe created Faust to remind men to stay within that domain. You have transgressed. You have conjured the elixir of life.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI bit my lip. &#8220;Like I told you in Rome, I want to find the deeper laws of physics. New science means new technology. New devices. Better lives for everyone.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBolitho glared at me. &#8220;No, alchemy means anarchy. False gold will collapse the economy. Long life will overburden the food supply. Society needs stable laws that work everywhere, all the time. You will not be allowed to spread knowledge of the elixir of life.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI heard the depth of Bolitho&#8217;s determination, and I was afraid for my life.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBolitho signaled his companion to hold some kind of amulet near my chest. It glowed with a dull blue light. He did the same to Haley. Then he handed the pouch of gold to his companion and said, &#8220;The gold you made tonight ought to fetch ten thousand pounds. I could use a good apprentice. Join us. Swear to secrecy.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI let out a huge breath. &#8220;What? Join you?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI could learn more alchemy from Bolitho in a few weeks than I could discover on my own in a lifetime. He must be over five hundred years old. This was the opportunity I&#8217;d have been waiting for, had I known it existed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI started to open my mouth to say he had a new apprentice, but I remembered Haley&#8217;s words back in Rome. I don\u2019t want to be around these people. They were mean and powerful. They were selfish, too. I didn\u2019t want to be like that. I wanted my work to benefit everybody.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI gulped. &#8220;Is what you said about studying cosmic rays or carbon nanotubes in America still an option?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBolitho pursed his lips, then said. &#8220;That was a surprisingly potent elixir of life considering that there is nothing special about your personal alchemy. How did you do it?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSweat beaded on my forehead. I didn\u2019t know. A lot of luck. But I had understood how some of the components worked with the help of my EM-2 theory equations, and I had improved upon the theriac and the alchemical mercury catalyst described in Bacon&#8217;s recipes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;I told you before,&#8221; I said, &#8220;Equations derived from a second perspective on Boltzmann&#8217;s law. I&#8217;ll give you those equations if you let us go.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe stared at me with curiosity for a few moments, the way an adult might regard a clever child. &#8220;If you will not join us, you must agree to abandon the pursuit of alchemy, and of this new kind of entropy you keep yapping about. Will you swear to this? Will you swear never make the elixir of life again?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSomething clicking in the back of my mind. Potent elixir, but I wasn\u2019t special. I glanced at Haley. &#8220;How&#8217;s your headache?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe looked at me like I was an idiot. &#8220;It hurts.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked Bolitho in the eye. &#8220;No more alchemy. I swear.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe gestured to a notebook on the workbench. &#8220;Write down the equations.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wrote out the EM-2 theory equations and noted how I believed the variables connected to alchemy.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen I was finished, he studied the notebook for a minute, nodded approval, and then raised his arm until a bony finger nearly touched my nose. &#8220;Do not break your promise to forsake alchemy. Do not reveal these equations to anyone else. We can detect alchemical transformations anywhere in the world. We can get to you or anyone else anywhere in the world. Do you understand?&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis eyes bored into me. I felt weak and exposed, but I held his eye and said, &#8220;I do.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley nodded vigorously beside me. Bolitho curled his lip in disgust and pointed to the door. &#8220;Get out of here before I change my mind. Take the next plane to America.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley and I hurried down the stone stairs of the tower and out into the bright moonlight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy legs felt wobbly. My heart felt light. I gave a little laugh. &#8220;So much for EM-2 theory. Now we know alchemy is real, but we still have no proof of it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaley held up her hand. &#8220;Yes, we do. Take a look at this.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer engagement ring glinted in the moonlight, but not with the silver of tungsten&#8211;with the yellow of gold.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Of course. Let me see it,&#8221; I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe inner surface of her ring was gold, too. A solid gold ring. I read aloud its inscription. &#8220;There are more things.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Yeah,&#8221; Haley sighed. &#8220;A whole second world of alchemy. It&#8217;s a shame we have to give it up.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Not so bad,&#8221; I replied. &#8220;That splash of elixir turned your ring to gold, but it didn\u2019t cure your headaches. Bolitho said I wasn\u2019t special in any alchemical way. Yet your Petoskey stone only works in my presence.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;So, there are more things. . .&#8221; she echoed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n&#8220;Exactly. There is an EM-3, a third entropic local minimum. And the Ojibwa know something about it. We should begin our return to the States with another vacation in Michigan.&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"garden\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">My Grandmother&#8217;s Garden<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy G. Allen Wilbanks<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy grandmother was a witch.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy saying this I do not mean she was cold-hearted, or evil, or even that she treated me poorly.  She was a wonderfully sweet woman, with a mild temper and an adoration for all children; especially me.  But, she was a witch.  An honest-to-goodness, black cauldron stirring, incantation reciting, spell casting witch.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI did not know this growing up.  I heard rumors, and my parents occasionally made comments about her when they thought I wasn\u2019t listening, but I never understood the significance of what they were saying.  To me she was just Grandma.  Even when I would go visit \u2013 which was quite often \u2013 she never said or did anything I would consider out of the ordinary.  She did typical Grandma stuff.  She baked cookies, took me out to movies, and bought me gifts for no reason other than that I was her favorite grandson.  To be absolutely honest, I was her only grandson, but that distinction is meaningless to a child.  The long and short of it was I loved her, and she spoiled me rotten.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen I stayed with her I always had the most amazing time, and she would let me do just about anything I wanted, short of injuring myself or burning down the house.  I went to bed late, got up at noon, ate junk food all day long, and did all the things I could never get away with at home.  There were almost no rules to follow.  In fact, there were only two rules that mattered.  First, I was not permitted to go into the basement.  Second, and most importantly, I must never touch my grandmother\u2019s garden.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI thought this a bit odd in the beginning, particularly the fact I could not go into her garden, since she spent a great deal of her time there.  But neither of these restrictions were too onerous and, after my initial pangs of curiosity had ebbed, I soon shut both places completely out of my mind.  With so many other bits of mischief for me to get into, I could leave the basement and the garden alone if that made her happy and kept me in her good graces.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe first time I truly understood what my grandmother was, and what she could do, was when I was thirteen years old.  That year, my parents sent me away to live with my grandmother for the summer.  I had never before been away from home for so long, but my mom and dad were in the middle of a personal crisis and needed some time alone to deal with their own problems.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy mom sat me down to talk to me before I left.  With a straight face she told me they were having \u201cmarital difficulties,\u201d like I hadn\u2019t guessed that already from the constant yelling and arguing, and the fact that dad slept in the living room on the couch more often than he slept in the bedroom with mom.  She said that a counselor had recommended they spend some time apart, but they didn\u2019t want me to get caught in the middle or feel like I had to choose sides, so they were sending me to Grandma\u2019s.  I guess they figured it would be too hard on my fragile, underdeveloped psyche to see them separated.  That, or else having a teenage boy underfoot was an added stress they were not prepared to handle on top of the other issues with which they were wrestling.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI know they had the best of intentions for me, but as much as I normally enjoyed spending time with my grandmother it still felt like I was being banished.  So, without any say in the matter, I went to live with Grandma.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe first week away from home passed slowly.  My grandmother did everything she could think of to keep me entertained.  She cooked my favorite foods, bought me a new MP3 player so I could listen to music, and tried to include me as much as possible in her everyday routine.  She even offered to teach me to drive, but all I wanted to do was sulk.  I sat around the house for hours watching TV and obsessing over how my parents wanted nothing to do with me.  I imagined they must have hated me quite a lot to send me away for the entire summer.  It wasn\u2019t true, and deep down I knew that their problems had nothing to do with me, but that did not change how I felt at the time.  I continued to mope and ignore every effort my grandmother made to cheer me up.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOne morning during the second week of my stay, my grandmother sat down next to me on the couch.  She pretended to watch TV with me while she absently stroked the wrinkles out of the hand-crocheted covers draped across the back and arms of the sofa.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know, Jason,\u201d she said after a few silent minutes had passed between us, \u201cI need to do some yard work out in the garden today.  I know you\u2019re very busy in here, but I was wondering if, perhaps, you would like to give me a hand.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWell, now this was interesting.  I had never before been permitted to go anywhere near her garden.  Despite my best efforts to remain depressed and sullen, I was immediately intrigued.  I tried to sound nonchalant as I answered.  No thirteen-year old wants to admit that he is actually excited about something an adult suggested.  \u201cI suppose I could.  If you want me to.\u201d  My heart beat faster, and I know she heard the excitement in my voice, but she did not let on.  She merely stood up and held her hand out to me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThank you.  I really could use the help today.  I have let the poor thing go much too long without the proper care.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat was a lie and we both knew it.  She had the most perfectly tended garden I had ever seen.  I am sure she would sooner have allowed the house to collapse around her than to permit the slightest neglect or harm to come to her plants and flowers.  But just as she pretended not to notice my own growing eagerness, I could ignore her little white lie for the sake of kindness.  I stood up, took her hand and let her lead me into the back yard.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThough I had seen her garden many times before, it still amazed me anew each time I gazed upon the perfect, unspoiled beauty of it.  It covered over three thousand square feet of ground, taking up a large part of her yard.  Six fruit trees bordered the north edge, lined up along her property at the furthest point away from the house.  There were two orange trees, one lemon, one pear and two apple.  Currently, the branches of the pear tree hung heavy with almost ripe fruit.  The other trees also were heavy laden, but their fruit was still small and green and would not be ready to eat until late into the fall or early winter.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTo the east, several dense rows of corn flourished, several feet high already, but not yet topped by the shimmering gold tassels that decorated fully mature plants.  Shorter bushes and stalks of various plants such as tomatoes, peas, bell peppers, bush beans, and a dozen others filled out most of the rest of the available space.  There were a few bare patches of ground as well that I knew from past experience would soon hold sprawling vines of various winter squash that my grandmother harvested and stored in her root cellar to consume and share with the neighbors throughout the cold months of the year.  There would be spaghetti squash, butternut squash, acorn squash, and even a few pumpkin vines, planted to produce their huge orange gourds just in time for Halloween.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEvery row of plants had their own wood or plastic markers identifying what grew there, and the entire expanse was interlaced with watering hoses that ran to innumerable sprinkler heads and drip lines.  It seemed impossible that one person could maintain such an immense and flawless yard, yet my grandmother was the only person I had ever known to so much as touch a single plant growing in this protected space.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nUntil now.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI paused outside the tiny, wooden picket fence that surrounded the garden, savoring the moment. The fence was only three feet high, and the gate was never locked.  The fact that no one ever entered the garden was testimony to the respect people had for my grandmother rather than any security protocols she had put into effect.  I flipped up the latch on the gate and, with a last glance at my grandmother to make certain she had not changed her mind, I stepped through onto the dark fertile soil.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs excited as I was to finally be in the garden, I was equally nervous.  I felt like a child in a shop full of delicate glass figurines.  I slipped my hands in my pockets for fear I might touch something I shouldn\u2019t.  Staying close to the fence, I stepped out of the way of the gate so my grandmother could follow me in.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat do I do first?\u201d I asked her.  \u201cWhat does the garden need today?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cToday, we are pulling weeds.  They are starting to grow a bit thick around my artichoke bushes and I don\u2019t want them choking the roots.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI opened my mouth to protest.  I had never seen a weed growing in her garden.  I figured that just as my grandmother had never allowed people inside her fence, weeds were equally forbidden.  And no weed would dare intrude against my grandmother\u2019s wishes.  But I didn\u2019t say anything.  I closed my mouth, the words unspoken, and followed her to a raised planting bed on the east side, next to the orderly rows of corn stalks.  In the bed were three artichoke plants, each about two feet tall and just as wide.  And to my great surprise, surrounding those plants was a carpet of Bermuda grass and flowering weeds.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDo you know the difference between a weed and an artichoke?\u201d my grandmother asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cUh-huh,\u201d I said, nodding.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cGood.  Then get to work.\u201d  With that, she knelt down beside the planter box and began to pull at the stubborn grasses that had invaded her yard.  After a moment, I dropped onto my knees and joined her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was hard work, but I did not shirk my responsibility.  I still felt the honor of having been allowed inside the boundaries of the garden fence and I did not want to give my grandmother any excuse to rescind the privilege.  I kept my head down and my hands busy.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAn hour passed in this manner.  When we were done, my grandmother stood up, placing her hands to her back and stretching to work the kinks out.  I followed her example.  I was sweating, and my back had grown fatigued from the hunched over position we had maintained during our labors.  In addition, my hands and fingers had grown cramped and sluggish from the tedious work of grabbing each individual weed and ripping it from the ground, roots and all.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI think that is enough for today,\u201d my grandmother told me, admiring our handiwork.  With all the weeds eradicated, the planter box now looked as immaculate as the rest of the garden.  \u201cThe goal is just do a little bit every day, that way you never fall behind.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI silently agreed with her.  Not necessarily the little bit every day part, but certainly the \u2018enough for today\u2019 part.  \u201cWhat are we doing tomorrow?\u201d I asked her.  \u201cIn the garden, I mean.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI think it\u2019s time for the squash to go in,\u201d she told me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe next day, we attacked the open areas of the garden with shovels, hoes, and rakes, preparing the area for planting.  The day after that, my grandmother produced several trays of seedlings she had sprouted in biodegradable cups before I came to visit.  We took each seedling in its cup and placed them in neat, careful rows, far enough apart that they would not need to compete with one another for water or sunlight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOn day four, my grandmother brought out a ladder and several buckets.  We harvested pairs and placed them in the root cellar to allow them to finish ripening off of the tree.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was day five when I got into trouble.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe were back in the garden and my grandmother was kneeling beside a row of green beans, repairing one of the watering lines.  The black, plastic hose had grown brittle from exposure to sunlight and the heat, and it had finally cracked, causing a sizeable leak.  While she worked to replace the damaged portion of hose, I wandered away to see if any of the other hoses looked similarly weathered and in need of repair.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs I reached the center of the garden, an area I had not previously been in, I observed a single rose bush growing by itself.  The bush was small, only coming up to my knees, but it was full, green and vibrant.  There were several small red buds that I could see growing on the bush, but they were nowhere close to being ready to open.  At the very top, however, I saw a single rose growing on a stem that extended several inches above the rest of the bush.  It was fully bloomed, perfect in form, and glowing bright crimson in the sunlight.  I could find no blemishes of any kind on the petals or the leaves around it.  I also noticed there weren\u2019t any thorns on the stem.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI did not want to just walk away from the rose, to let it wither and die unnoticed by anyone.  It should be enjoyed by as many people as possible while it was at the height of its fragile beauty, I thought.  So, I decided to pick it and bring it to my grandmother.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI broke the rose off as close to the main part of the bush as possible, preserving as much of the stem as I could.  Then, pleased with myself for my consideration of others, I carried my prize to my grandmother.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe look of horror on her face as I presented it to her haunts me still.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cJason, what have you done?\u201d she asked, rising to her feet and dropping the length of dripline she had been holding.  \u201cDid you find that on the ground, or did you pick it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe smile that had been on my face moments before was gone, replaced by an expression of sick dread.  \u201cI found a rose bush in the middle of the garden.  I picked this for you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCome with me,\u201d she said.  She grabbed my arm and ran with me toward the house.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer grip around my wrist was painful.  At first, I thought it was because she was angry with me, she was taking me inside to punish me.  I soon understood it was not anger in her heart, but fear.  She muttered to herself as we ran, condemning her carelessness and berating herself for allowing this to happen.  Although I did not know exactly what she was referring to, I knew something bad had occurred.  With a cold dread in the pit of my stomach, I kept quiet and tried to keep up with her panicked flight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe entered the house, whereupon my grandmother ran to one of the kitchen cabinets, threw the cupboard door open, and pulled down a baking powder tin where I knew she often kept small amounts of cash.  She snapped open the tin and removed a one-dollar bill.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy grandmother turned to face me directly.  \u201cJason, I want you to wish for a dollar.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat?\u201d I asked, not understanding what she was asking me to do.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHold the rose out in your hands, and wish for a dollar,\u201d she repeated.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI held out both of my hands, holding them together like a bowl with the rose nestled in the middle.  The stem protruded downward through the gap between my cupped palms.  \u201cLike this?\u201d I asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat\u2019s fine.  Now make the wish I told you to make.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI wish for a dollar,\u201d I said, solemnly.  My grandmother\u2019s panic was infecting me to the point that my hands had begun to shake, but I still felt vaguely foolish as I spoke the wish.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs soon as the words were out of my mouth, the perfect red rose I held in my hands wilted and shriveled until it was a pile of dried, brown petals.  Shocked, I stepped back and dropped it to the floor.  My grandmother reached down to take my left hand.  She placed the dollar bill she held into my palm and closed my fingers around it.  Before I could ask what had just happened, she slapped me across the cheek, so hard it caused a ringing in my ear.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cListen to me, Jason.\u201d  My grandmother grabbed me by my upper arms and made sure that I was looking at her.  \u201cYou must never pick a rose from that bush.  If you pick a rose from it, the bloom will stay as red and perfect as the day you picked it, until you make a wish.  The rose will die, and your wish will be granted.  That sounds wonderful, until you understand that every granted wish comes with a consequence equal to the magnitude of the wish that was made.  The magic seeks its own equilibrium.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe released me and pointed to the dollar in my hand.  \u201cA dollar is a tiny wish.  It comes with a tiny consequence.  When the consequences are tiny, sometimes they can be controlled.  That\u2019s why I slapped you.  I decided on a consequence so that it would not occur randomly.  Look at the rose.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI glanced at the floor where I had dropped the dead flower.  Instead of a brown, shriveled rose, I saw a small scattering of dirt.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhen you make a wish, the rose dies,\u201d my grandmother continued.  \u201cWhen the magic has come back into balance, the rose becomes dust.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wish I had never found the rosebush.  I understand its power now, but as a child I did not believe in magic, not really.  So, I was skeptical.  Although I took my grandmother\u2019s warning seriously, I was not experienced enough to be properly afraid.  All I knew for certain was that when I made a wish, the rose died.  But for the rest of it \u2026 well, my grandmother had been the one to give me a dollar.  And she was the one who slapped me.  So, how was I to know for sure that the flower granted wishes, or that there were consequences if it did?  Thirteen-year old boys are not generally known for taking things at their face value.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe next day, we were back in the garden.  My grandmother was putting down fertilizer for the young squash plants while I did some weeding around the tomatoes.  I was barefoot that day.  I had discovered that the dark, fertile soil of the garden was incredibly soft, and it felt wonderful on my bare feet.  I wasn\u2019t worried about stepping on anything sharp, since any rocks or thorny weeds had long since been removed, thanks to my grandmother\u2019s diligent care.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI finished my weeding and was making my way through the garden to see if my grandmother needed help with anything else.  I passed the rosebush on my way.  I saw that there was again one perfect red rose perched on a five-inch stem at the top of the bush.  My grandmother was distracted and looking in the other direction as she worked.  Without thinking, I plucked the rose from the bush.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI wish for a bicycle,\u201d I whispered, so I would not be overheard.  I had wanted a new bike for some time, but my parents did not see why I needed one since I already had a bicycle that \u2018worked perfectly fine.\u2019  They disregarded my arguments that it was rusty, the brakes were bad, and worst of all, it was a girl\u2019s bike.  If you could sit on it and get from point A to point B, then they felt it was good enough.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe rose died in my hand, but nothing else happened.  I waited a full minute, but a bicycle did not materialize out of the air or drop from the sky.  I tossed the dead rose under the bush, not wanting to be seen with it, then, more than a little disappointed, started walking toward my grandmother.  Something rough and pointed stabbed deep into my right foot.  I hopped back and shouted in surprised pain.  Dropping down onto the dirt, I grasped my foot in both hands so I could look at the bottom of it and examine the injury.  I was bleeding.  It wasn\u2019t a serious cut, but it did hurt.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI glanced at the ground around me to see if I could find what had cut me, and discovered what looked like an orange and black stick protruding from the dirt a few inches from where I sat.  I reached over and pulled at it, thinking to throw it away before someone else stepped on it, but as it came free of the ground I realized what it was.  I had discovered a plastic bicycle, buried in the garden.  It was orange, with black handlebars and black wheels, and the whole thing fit in the palm of my hand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI didn\u2019t look back, but I guessed that I would find only dirt under the bush where I had thrown the dead rose\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAre you okay,\u201d asked my grandmother.  She had heard me yell when I stepped on the toy bicycle and had come over to investigate.  I slipped the bike into my pocket so she would not see it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYeah,\u201d I told her, standing back up.  \u201cI stepped on a stick and cut my foot a little.  I\u2019m okay.  I\u2019m just going to go in the house and look for a bandage.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy grandmother nodded and brushed the dirt from her hands onto her gardening apron.  \u201cAlright.  I guess we\u2019re about done for today anyway.  I\u2019ll come in with you and make sure that cut doesn\u2019t look too bad.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nUnhappy with the literal interpretation of my wish, I spent most of the rest of my afternoon thinking about how I should have phrased the request.  I began to plan how I might get another opportunity to try.  That night, after dinner, I offered to take the trash outside to the garbage cans.  My grandmother, thinking only how considerate I was being, handed me the white plastic garbage bag from under the sink.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI ran outside, knowing my time was limited before she would start to wonder what was taking me so long.  I tossed the bag into the garbage bin next to the house, then sprinted into the garden.  I ran directly to the rose bush.  Another perfect red rose awaited me, as if the bush knew I would be coming back to try again.  I plucked the rose and held it up in my hands.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI wish for a brand-new bicycle.  A real bicycle that I can sit on and ride around wherever I want to go.\u201d  Then as an afterthought, I added, \u201cA boy\u2019s bike.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe rose died in my hands.  Nothing happened right away, and I couldn\u2019t remain in the garden indefinitely, waiting for \u2026 I didn\u2019t know what.  I did not have the time.  I tossed the dead flower under the bush, like I had done before, then raced back to the house.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe next morning, I woke, showered, dressed, and went outside to check the yard.  I was disappointed to discover there was no brand-new bicycle waiting for me.  I checked the garage and walked the entire perimeter of the house.  I found nothing.  Utterly dejected, I moped back into the house.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI don\u2019t have anything planned for today,\u201d my grandmother told me when she saw me on the couch, halfheartedly watching one of the morning news shows on TV.  \u201cWhy don\u2019t you walk into town and see what\u2019s going on?  I\u2019ll give you a little spending money so you can get something to eat while you\u2019re there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI agreed.  There wasn\u2019t much point in hanging around the house.  My grandmother lived pretty much in the middle of nowhere.  She owned a five-acre plot of land, surrounded by a bunch of other people who owned similar plots.  The \u2018town\u2019 she referred to was two blocks of buildings clustered together about four miles from her house.  It was an hour on foot in each direction.  Unless someone wanted to drive thirty miles out of their way, whatever stores, restaurants, or entertainments were available to the people in this community were found there.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt would be a lot faster on a bike,\u201d I muttered to myself.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI accepted my grandmother\u2019s cash offering, and set off.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe walk was as uneventful as I expected and, an hour later, I pushed through the glass door of one of the two diners in town.  I figured while I was here I would get myself a nice big breakfast since I hadn\u2019t eaten anything before leaving my grandmother\u2019s house.  The first thing I noticed as I entered the diner was that there was a larger crowd inside than usual.  All of the tables were occupied, and several people were standing around on the main floor chatting with one another.  It appeared that most of the town had squeezed into the tiny restaurant that day.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe next thing that grabbed my attention was a shiny, red, cross-country bicycle set up on a table against the back wall.  Above the bicycle was a sign that read:\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<i>GUESS HOW MANY JELLY BEANS IN THE JAR AND WIN A BICYCLE<\/i>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNo purchase necessary to play\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI ran to the table.  There was a one-gallon mason jar sealed with a metal lid and placed on the table beside the bike.  The jar was full to the top with multi-colored jellybeans.  Next to the jar was a cardboard box with a roughly cut slot on top and a handwritten note taped to the side that advised a winner would be announced at 10:00 AM on July 2.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nToday was July second!\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked at my watch.  The digital display told me I had five minutes before the contest ended.  Snatching one of the square sheets of paper provided for the purpose, I grabbed a snubby, golf-sized pencil off the table and wrote down a number.  I then added my name and my grandmother\u2019s address as contact information.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI folded the paper with my guess written on it and dropped it into the box.  I stepped back just as a heavyset waitress in a pink apron brushed passed me and, with a wink in my direction, plucked up the box from the table.  She carried it behind the diner\u2019s main counter.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOkay everyone, it\u2019s time to take a look at the guesses and give away the bike.\u201d  The waitress smiled at the gathered crowd, popped the lid off of the box and dumped a mound of papers onto the counter.  I could see this wasn\u2019t exactly a formal process.  \u201cI happen to know that there are nine hundred and thirty-six jelly beans in that jar.  Whoever gets closest to that number is walking out of here with that bicycle.\u2019\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe started sorting through the papers, setting one down in front of her and tossing aside others.  Occasionally the paper in front of her would be swapped out as one with a closer guess took its place.  At one point she held up a slip and shook it at the crowd.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWho\u2019s the Einstein that wrote, five?\u201d  She took another look at the paper.  \u201cMitch, honey, if you\u2019re here right now, you should be ashamed of yourself.\u201d  A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe waitress continued to sort and the pile of guesses yet to be checked grew smaller.  \u201cBarry?  You guessed nine hundred and thirty-four.  That might be a winner, honey.\u201d  She flipped through the last few slips and held one up.  \u201cWhoops!  Nine hundred thirty-six on the button.  Jason?  Jason Rickard, are you here, baby?  You just won yourself a bicycle!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI won the bike.  I was shocked, but then again, I wasn\u2019t.  As soon as she said the winning number, I knew I had won.  But even before that, when I dropped the paper into the box, in the deepest part of my heart I knew that I would win.  It was my wish, after all.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI showed the waitress my school ID card to prove to her that I was who I claimed to be, and she pulled the bicycle down from the table and presented it to me.  It was that simple.  Wish granted.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut as my grandmother had warned, magic comes with consequences.  My victory was short lived.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI had only walked my new bike a few hundred feet down the street.  I did not want to ride it on the sidewalk in town for fear of running into a pedestrian, and because I did not have a bike lock for it, I did not want to leave it outside while I was inside any of the stores.  My plan was to walk it the couple blocks out of town, then ride home.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA hand I had not seen coming grabbed my shirt and jerked me into a recessed patio between two buildings.  An older boy with blond hair, and an angry expression screwed onto his face, pushed me to the wall and pinned me there with his forearm.  I guessed he was about seventeen.  He was taller than I was and he outweighed me by at least thirty pounds.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat\u2019s my bike,\u201d he said to me.  \u201cMy dad told me how many beans he put in the jar, then told me to guess a couple off so it didn\u2019t look suspicious.  How did you know how many there were?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAre you Barry?\u201d I asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBarry answered with his fists.  I felt the first punch when it broke my nose.  After that, the initial pain subsided into a throbbing numbness as he continued to rain blows into my face.  I think he hit me five or six times.  I can\u2019t be certain as I believe I partially lost consciousness.  The next thing I remember clearly was sitting on the ground, bleeding onto my shirt, and watching Barry ride away on the bicycle I had owned for all of three minutes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWish granted.  Consequences done.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI ran home to my grandmother\u2019s house, crying like a child half my age.  Several times I sniffed and spat blood, trying to clear my nose enough to breathe, but it was useless.  I was hurt, embarrassed, and angry.  I hated that town and everyone in it.  I hated Barry and I wished him dead a dozen times over as I ran.  For most young teenagers, the rage is enough.  It burns itself out even as they plot revenge against those that have wronged them.  The child eventually realizes that as much as they wish for doom to fall on the head of their enemy, wishing will never accomplish anything.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThis was not true for me.  I knew how to make a wish real, and the knowledge of that fueled my hatred.  It drove me to run faster to the new goal I set for myself.  I was no longer running home to safety, I was running toward redemption.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI turned onto the path that led up to my grandmother\u2019s property.  I bypassed the house and raced directly for the garden.  In an instant, I was through the gate and skidding to a stop at the rosebush.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA single rose waited for me.  A solitary, perfect blaze of red, ready to grant my deepest desire.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWithout allowing myself to think about what I was doing, I snatched at the rose, pulling it free of its stem.  I crushed it tight in my fist and yelled, \u201cI wish Barry was dead!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI opened my hand and gazed in horror.  The rose was black.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt remained fully intact and still looked alive.  It had not wilted and died as the others had, but instead had turned an oily, midnight black.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cJason, what have you done?\u201d  My grandmother\u2019s voice came from behind me.  She had seen me running up the driveway, bloody and crying, and had bolted out of the house to check on me.  She saw the black rose in my hand.  \u201cThis is bad, Jason.  A wish of death only carries one consequence.  It can only bring more death.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy grandmother approached the rose bush and passed her hands over it.  \u201cOne more,\u201d she said, speaking directly to the bush.  \u201cGrant one more today for the sake of my grandson.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI watched in fascination as one of the smaller, closed buds wriggled free of its companions.  It stretched upward as its stem elongated to accommodate its effort to rise.  Next, the bud began to warp and fatten, like some type of massive, red tick, gorged on blood.  It pulsed, round and oddly menacing on its perch, before finally popping open and unfolding into a vibrant, crimson bloom.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPick it,\u201d my grandmother told me.  Her voice harsh with urgency.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI did.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNow wish away your first wish.  Ask for it to be stopped.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI did not argue.  I was now more scared than angry, and although I was not thinking any more clearly, I was willing to do as she said.  \u201cI wish to cancel my wish to kill Barry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe second rose wilted and turned brown.  I watched with relief as the first rose did the same.  I thought it was over, but my grandmother still looked grave.  She collected the dead flowers from me and placed them in the front pocket of her blouse.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCome with me.  You stopped the death wish, but you still must face the consequences of two powerful wishes.  I need to do what I can to control the outcome, but I can\u2019t protect you outside.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen my grandmother had allowed me into her garden for the very first time, I had been thrilled.  I was not so ecstatic when I found out that I was about to have my first excursion into the basement.  When she turned the knob and pulled the door open to reveal a flight of wooden steps leading down, I did not want to go.  She did not allow me to refuse, however.  She led and, with great trepidation, I followed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI half expected some kind of gloomy, dank, and heavily cobwebbed dungeon.  Instead, as I descended the stairs, I was greeted by a large, perfectly square room with a bare concrete floor and concrete walls on all sides.  Six exposed lightbulbs, recessed into the drywalled ceiling, provided enough light to see everything in the room easily, except \u2026 there was nothing to see.  The basement was almost completely empty.  There was no furniture, no shelving on the walls, and no clutter of any kind.  The only item breaking up that completely empty space was a single rectangular table made of marble or some other polished stone, placed in the very middle of the room.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWith nothing else in the room to focus on, my eyes were drawn to that stone table dominating the center of the basement.  It was grey, streaked with darker lines of black or brown, and it appeared to have been carved from a single block of stone.  The surface was glossy smooth, but odd etchings covered the top and all four sides of it.  The word \u2018altar\u2019 came unbidden to my mind, and all the dark connotations that went with it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cStrip,\u201d my grandmother commanded.  \u201cEverything off.  Hurry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat?\u201d I protested.  \u201cPlease tell me your kidding.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cStrip.  Everything.  Now!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI hesitated a heartbeat longer, then did as I was told.  I removed everything, including my socks, letting the items of clothing drop to the floor one by one as they came off.  When I was done I turned, naked as the day I entered this world, to face my grandmother.  Clothing is a poor defense against anything, but it is still a defense.  I realized this for the first time at that moment.  Without my clothes I felt more than just embarrassed, I felt small.  I felt scared and utterly helpless.  Initially, I tried to cover myself with my hands, but I soon realized it did not help.  It only emphasized my condition.  So, defeated, I let my hands fall to my sides.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor the second time that day, I began to cry.  My cheeks glistened with fat tears of shame; shame at my nakedness and shame at what I had done.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOn the table,\u201d my grandmother said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was too humiliated and emotionally beaten to offer any further resistance.  I did as she said.  As I lay down, I felt the cold stone surface pressing against my back, my buttocks, and my legs.  I shivered as the chill of it leeched the warmth from my body.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nReaching down to the floor, my grandmother grabbed a leather strap I had not noticed before.  It lay on the floor pinned under the table and extending out to both sides.  She brought both ends up, walking from one side of the stone to the other, and fastened them together.  They synched down tightly over my ankles.  She repeated this process once more at my waist.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen I was secured to her satisfaction, my grandmother stood at the end of the table closest to my head.  She looked down at my face and smiled, trying to be reassuring even then.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry for this,\u201d she told me.  \u201cI brought you down here because there is less here that random chance can use to harm you.  I needed you undressed so there is nothing between your skin and the altar.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI sniffed.  I tasted blood in the back of my throat as it trickled down from my broken nose.  The taste made me cough and wretch.  I wanted to vomit.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTry to relax,\u201d my grandmother told me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOne of the light bulbs in the basement ceiling suddenly buzzed and popped.  Glass from the shattered bulb rained to the ground.  The table where I lay was far enough away that the glass did not touch me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs if the light had been a signal, my grandmother placed her palms flat on the stone surface, one to either side of my head.  She began to speak in a low murmur.  I did not understand her words, but the tone of her speech was urgent.  It sounded like she was praying.  Or perhaps pleading.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI waited, my eyes switching back and forth across the ceiling, searching for whatever might come next.  I did not see anything.  Instead, I felt the cold table beneath me begin to warm.  I thought at first it was just my body heat bringing the table to an equilibrium with me, but the temperature continued to rise.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cGrandma,\u201d I whimpered.  \u201cIt\u2019s getting hot.  The table.  I think it\u2019s getting hot.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe brushed the fingers of one hand through my hair in reassurance.  \u201cIt\u2019s alright.  Try to relax.  You need to remain on the table, and you need to stay as still as you possibly can.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe lay her hand back on the table top and resumed her chanting.  I took several deep breaths, attempting to calm myself, but panic had too strong of grip on my racing heart.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe heat under me continued to build.  It reminded me of an electric stove top building to maximum temperature, but in this particular metaphor I was the pot being set to boil.  Pain flared along my back.  My skin was being scorched where it touched the surface of the table.  I tried to sit up, to escape the burning sensation.  My grandmother grasped my shoulders and pushed me back down, holding me in place.  She was stronger than I expected; stronger than I would have earlier believed.  I screamed as the pain increased, and twisted against the straps holding my legs in place.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was on fire.  I felt my skin blacken and tear, leaving the pink flesh beneath to hiss and spit as it cooked in the intense heat.  I knew I was dying.  There was no way I could feel this much pain and not be moments from death.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nUnder the pitched wail of my own voice, I heard a rumbling.  The table vibrated, accompanied by a loud crack like a gunshot being discharged from directly beneath me.  In the same instant, the burning sensation fled.  Not gradually, but all at once.  The pain was gone.  My grandmother released my shoulders tentatively to reach into her pocket.  With a smile of relief, she held her hand out where I could see it.  I watched a trickle of dust sift between her fingers and fall to the floor.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s over,\u201d she said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe removed the straps from around my body and I scrambled down from the table, desperate to be away from it.  I ran my hands along my shoulders and legs, checking for burns, but to my amazement I found only intact skin.  I was completely uninjured.  The pain and burning had all been in my mind.  I gazed at the massive table in wonder, then with a start, I realized it was damaged.  At some point during the ordeal the stone had broken.  A single jagged crack about an inch wide ran the length of its surface.  One corner, near where my head had been, had completely broken off and tumbled to the floor.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cJason, I think you owe me a new altar,\u201d my grandmother said, frowning at the debris.  She flicked a hand in my direction.  \u201cGrab your clothes and get dressed.  Lunch will be ready in a few minutes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat was over fifteen years ago.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI went back home at the end of the summer.  My parents divorced a few months later and I ended up living with my mom.  After that, I still went to visit my grandmother as I had so often before, although never for such a long period of time.  She continued to spoil me.  I was still her favorite grandson.  She even gave me permission to go back into the garden.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut I never did.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI\u2019m twenty-nine years old, an adult by all definitions that matter, yet at this moment, I am remembering everything as if it had only just happened.  I feel like I am still that child, naked and crying, clutching a ball of wadded clothing to my chest as though it is my only remaining tether to reality.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe memory is so clear because, for the first time since I was thirteen years old, I\u2019m standing in the middle of her garden.  Nothing has changed.  Everything looks perfect, as if my grandmother is still tending it.  But I know, in time, without her caring guidance, it will all go to weed and ruin.  As all things must eventually do.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy grandmother died last week.  My mom asked me to come with her to sort through her mother\u2019s things.  I agreed.  I wanted to support my mother, but I also wanted to come here one last time for my own reasons.  I miss my grandmother, and I wanted to say goodbye to her in the place she loved the most.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked for the rosebush, but it is gone.  There is no sign that it ever existed.  I don\u2019t know if it died with my grandmother, or if perhaps she knew that her time was growing short and she removed it.  Regardless of how it happened, I am glad it is gone.  It means that I don\u2019t have to pull it out myself.  It means that I don\u2019t have to touch it again.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMost of all, it means that I will never be tempted to make one last wish.\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"ruritanian\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">The Ruritanian Duke of Kunlun<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy Andrea Tang<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow North suspected a diplomatic incident afoot from the moment Arthur Armitage invited him to take tea at the finest club in Ruritania\u2019s capital. Five minutes into his first cucumber sandwich, Winslow, who subscribed to \u2013 not pessimism, surely, but a certain bracing realism \u2013 found his prediction rewarded.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, Your Grace,\u201d sighed Arthur, looking distressed indeed, with his face pulled long beneath his strawberry-blond curls. \u201cI cannot begin to express how grateful I am for your friendship, and how wretched I feel for calling on its services in so gauche a manner. Nevertheless\u201d \u2013 here, he heaved another gusty sigh \u2013 \u201cthe trouble cannot be otherwise helped. I feel a damnable fool, in truth. Do you think me a very great fool?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow, over the rim of his teacup, said rather dryly, \u201cI find I cannot make a proper assessment of a man\u2019s foolishness, great or small, without first knowing its cause.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe trouble began with my school,\u201d said Arthur, stirring his tea with a melancholic air. \u201cPoor school! How it suffers on my account.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow frowned. \u201cSchool?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know the one, Your Grace \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWinslow, please,\u201d said Winslow, for perhaps the fifth or sixth time. He\u2019d lost count, in truth, of how many times he\u2019d corrected Arthur on matters of address. Winslow massaged his temples. \u201cI am only properly a duke in the Kingdom of Kunlun. Dukes in my grandparents\u2019 country hardly deign to run companies, or take tea with Western businessmen, as I do here in Ruritania. They consider the handling of money and the willful fraternization with foreigners uncouth, and never quite forgave my father for adopting an English surname for our business purposes. My family in Kunlun would hardly approve of our friendship, Arthur. Which,\u201d Winslow added, to forestall any perception of insult, \u201cI of course hold in the highest esteem, regardless of any elderly great-aunt\u2019s antiquated misgivings.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur beamed. \u201cI do so admire your humility, Your Gra \u2013 ah, Winslow. Indeed, it is a quality I most admire in Kunlunese people like yourself. That is why I started the school, you see,\u201d he added earnestly. \u201cSurely, you\u2019ve heard about the Armitage School of Exotic Eastern Enchantments. I teach the martial arts course for gentlemen myself. My father was terribly proud.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIndeed,\u201d said Winslow, taking care to curb the wryness of his tone. He had no doubt regarding Armitage Senior\u2019s satisfaction in such an enterprise. The Armitages were businessmen, and trade deals recently struck between the young Western government of Ruritania and the forward-thinking, great-aunt-scandalizing Crown Prince of Kunlun had made all things Eastern abruptly fashionable in the West. Kunlunese magic \u2013 and its accompanying martial traditions \u2013 had won particular favor with Western gentlemen of a certain class and sensibility.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe school has been quite the success, as I\u2019m sure you know,\u201d Arthur went on. \u201cI have the grand tour I took across the Asian continent in my boyhood, not to mention my month-long education in Chinese sorcery fundamentals, to thank for that.\u201d He winked. \u201cI do, unlike most Western Ruritaneans, know my Kunlunese enchantments and martial practices.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSurely any obstacle at your School of Exotic Eastern Enchantments could be overcome by a full month\u2019s worth of Chinese magic instruction,\u201d replied Winslow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBut that is just the problem!\u201d exclaimed Arthur. \u201cSome \u2013 perhaps misunderstanding my history, and indeed, the nobility of my intentions \u2013 do not approve of my school.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow sat up a little over his cooling tea. \u201cReally.\u201d Now, this was interesting. Not many in Ruritania dared quarrel with the Armitages, even over something silly enough to be called the School of Exotic Eastern Enchantments. Winslow frowned. \u201cPerhaps they disapprove of an institution of Asian sorcery.\u201d Ruritania, for all its young government\u2019s earnest talk of peace and progressivism, also gave home to those who misliked the growing repute of Asian and African Ruritanians. A certain cosmopolitan aesthetic which sampled the occasional Persian chemise pattern or Vietnamese soup course was all very well, but Western nations, with their notoriously delicate constitutions, could only stomach so much of the strange and exotic.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, it is not a matter of intolerance,\u201d said Arthur, drooping further still, \u201cwhich is a shame, really. To snub the intolerant is quite fashionable in respectable Ruritanian circles now. Unfortunately, the critic I speak of is herself a Kunlunese. One Miss Mabel Lee, though she went by a properly native name in Kunlun, Ming-ling or Mu-lan, or some such thing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow\u2019s eyebrows climbed. \u201cShe?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIndeed.\u201d Arthur leaned across the table with enthusiasm. Subtly, Winslow rescued the tray of miniature fruit tarts from Arthur\u2019s flailing elbow. \u201cA female magician \u2013 and a martial practitioner, at that!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow felt his eyebrows climb higher still. Women martial-magicians, sworn to the code of Jianghu, were rarer than their male counterparts, and according to the old sages of Kunlun, rarely as strong. Still, such women were not unheard of. \u201cWhat seems to be the young lady\u2019s complaint?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is the most unconscionable thing!\u201d replied Arthur. \u201cShe came to the school \u2013 for lessons, I thought \u2013 but no, the heartless creature wanted merely to pillory me. Going on about how my teachings lack authenticity. Mine! I, who spent a full year traversing the Asian continent.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt contains a good many countries,\u201d said Winslow, comfortingly. \u201cPray, do not spill your tea over such a trifle. One disgruntled young lady, Jianghu disciple or not, should not provoke such emotional excesses.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur sniffed, curls flopping over his forehead, where they clashed unfortunately with his reddening face. \u201cPerhaps my honor and reputation are a trifle to you, but I expect you should care rather more about the honor of your royal family.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cRuritania has no royal family,\u201d said Winslow, puzzled. \u201cI\u2019m given to understand the young government is quite proud of its democratic achievements \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDon\u2019t be daft, man! I speak of the Kingdom of Kunlun, of course.\u201d Arthur\u2019s gaze darted about the club, a bit nervously, as he adjusted his cravat. \u201cIn truth, I had not wanted to spread such gauche gossip about your homeland \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI was born in Ruritania, Arthur. And all gossip is, by definition, quite gauche, otherwise it would not be worth gossiping about.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201c\u2013 but I am privy to certain rumors. My father\u2019s business associates, you know, they do go on. It seems the young upstart who impugned my teachings has also impugned the reputation of the Crown Prince himself. It is a scandal, of quite literally royal proportions!\u201d Arthur looked triumphant. \u201cIs the Prince not your own flesh and blood?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPrince Tai?\u201d Winslow frowned. \u201cI am a cousin of his, yes. However, save our blood, there is precious little in common between a rising head of state in a remote mountain kingdom, and a displaced duke who runs a Ruritanian company and takes tea with Western gentlemen.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBut the thickness of that shared blood must stir even your wretched heart!\u201d exclaimed Arthur. \u201cI must say, I do so admire the Kunlunese devotion to family. I am sure your noble cousin would agree that the Lee girl is a cross-continental menace, and must be stopped.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNow, Arthur, you cannot simply class every woman who wields a sharp tongue as a menace, or the men of Ruritania would have none left to wed. Besides,\u201d added Winslow, a bit impish-grinned, \u201cI daresay I would not fare any better with such women than you do at your father\u2019s Winter Ball.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur\u2019s color deepened further. \u201cI am being serious, Winslow. And it is not for nothing. Speak to your cousin. A conversation between family is not such a difficult thing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow thought, wryly, that Arthur clearly had little experience of Kunlunese house-matrons during his year-long tour of the Asian continent, but refrained from saying so.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI shall make it worth your while,\u201d Arthur continued. \u201cIf you do this small thing for our friendship, I will entreat my father to stop nipping at the heels of the North Enterprise, as it were.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow froze, staring at Arthur. \u201cHow do you know about that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI know some may think me an empty-handed dandy,\u201d said Arthur, heaving his grandest sigh yet, \u201cbut I have ears. As I said, I am privy to certain rumors. My father has been attempting to snap up your family\u2019s company since spring.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd I have expressed, time and again, my refusal. What does the Armitage trading empire need with a quaint little research company? We fund minor magical inventions and spell-work experimentation, not trading routes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur shrugged. \u201cKunlunese magic is in fashion. My father is a businessman.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow\u2019s fingers tightened, almost imperceptibly, on his teacup. \u201cIf I speak to my cousin of this Miss Lee of yours, you will ensure that your father puts a stop to this nonsense about an acquisition?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI shall speak most firmly to him,\u201d promised Arthur. His curls bounced up and down when he nodded. \u201cYou have my word.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow leaned back in his plushly-cushioned seat, and cast a long-suffering glance toward the tea room\u2019s finely-painted ceiling, a delicate imitation of Moroccan tile. \u201cIt will be good for my constitution to exercise my scrying mirrors, I suppose.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMingzhu is a menace!\u201d howled Tai, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Kunlun, and cousin to one unfortunate Winslow North.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow, wincing at the Prince\u2019s vehemence, tried not to drop his mother\u2019s gilt-framed scrying mirror. It was a family heirloom, after all. \u201cI presume you refer to our Miss Mabel Lee.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMabel!\u201d scoffed Prince Tai. \u201cIs that the Western name that infernal creature has chosen for herself, now that she is cavorting about Ruritania like a common European hedge witch? I would expect no less!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCertainly, it is not an uncommon name among English-speaking Westerners,\u201d offered Winslow. He held the mirror as far from his ears as his arms would allow. \u201cIt is, I\u2019d wager, about as common as \u2018North.\u2019\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, heavens above, Weizhe.\u201d From the depths of the reflecting glass, Prince Tai rolled his long dark eyes, extravagantly exasperated. \u201cOf all the ridiculous airs your father put on when he set up in Ruritania, the names he chose were by far the silliest. Pray, what was wrong with \u2018Ng\u2019?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWesterners find names with no romanized vowels difficult for their tongues.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou could at least go by your heaven-born and given name, Cousin. Weizhe contains vowels aplenty.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI suspect Westerners should complain about the Z-H spelling.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI say!\u201d exclaimed the Prince, plainly at his wit\u2019s end. \u201cFor all the boons their trade deals grant us, I must confess I have never met such a ridiculous lot of hothouse flowers as a pack of English-speaking Ruritanians.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThis from a man who is frightened of his paramour,\u201d Winslow observed mildly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI am not frightened of Mingzhu!\u201d thundered the Prince. \u201cAnd she is not my paramour!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow\u2019s eyebrows lifted at the mirror.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWell,\u201d the Prince amended, gaze shifting sideways. His high cheekbones colored. \u201cShe is not my paramour any longer.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAh,\u201d said Winslow. \u201cThen there is Arthur\u2019s scandal. I thought as much.\u201d If that was all, the security of the North Enterprise\u2019s company shares had been quite cheaply purchased.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd,\u201d Tai continued, then paused, as if inviting dramatic effect. The Crown Prince of Kunlun might have gotten on quite well with Arthur Armitage in another life, reflected Winslow. \u201cShe is a thief.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, heavens,\u201d said Winslow, \u201cI did hope you would stop taking up with light-fingered maidens after the last one tried to make off with Great-Aunt Kunlee\u2019s jade-handled chopsticks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMingzhu is far worse than Daiyu ever was,\u201d insisted Prince Tai, who glanced over his shoulder once, then lowered his voice. \u201cShe has made off with a much greater treasure than a pair of novelty chopsticks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYour dignity, yes, I am becoming glumly aware.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe Blue Mountain Sword!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow nearly dropped the mirror in earnest. \u201cYou should not jest over such matters, Cousin.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI would hardly jest about the Blue Mountain Sword,\u201d hissed the Prince.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow could the young lady even touch it?\u201d demanded Winslow. \u201cAny aspiring thief should have been cut down instantly by its true wielder. That sword belongs to the Royal Champion of the Kunlunese Crown!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWho has not yet been selected,\u201d Prince Tai said frostily, \u201cas my first choice for the position insists on burrowing himself in paperwork an ocean away, playing businessman and writing arcane research proposals.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow groaned. He had thought this particular argument concluded. A naive assumption. \u201cI would ill-suit the role of a Kunlunese Crown Prince\u2019s Champion. I am Ruritanian.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBut Kunlunese blood runs in your veins!\u201d cried Tai. \u201cProper, royal Kunlunese blood, in a proper, classically-trained follower of Jianghu\u2019s tenets! There could be no greater warrior, no better martial-magician than yourself, and if you had been a good cousin and returned to Kunlun to wield the Blue Mountain Sword at my side, that interfering harpy would never have laid her greedy little hands upon it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow did she obtain such a closely-guarded object?\u201d asked Winslow. He found himself genuinely curious, despite the histrionic circumstances. The Blue Mountain Sword, according to legend, had been a gift from the immortal spirits of Kunlun to the royal family generations ago, and granted its wielder near-invincibility. A mere farmhand might be rendered a great warrior through its magic, but the sword \u2013 with the unsettling sentience common to immortal-touched objects \u2013 would answer first and foremost to its true bearer\u2019s call. And that true bearer, by right, had always been the Crown\u2019s Champion.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIf I knew how the wicked creature carried off the burglary, I would not be in such a predicament!\u201d snapped his cousin. \u201cMingzhu and I had a tremendous row, and she insisted she\u2019d had enough of me, the heartless woman. She had stormed off by morning, for passage to Ruritania, and the Blue Mountain Sword had conveniently vanished along with her. The girl was always unduly fascinated by that blasted sword. I drew the only logical conclusion.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nPrivately, Winslow thought his cousin\u2019s conclusion had leaped across a noteworthy number of logical holes, but said only, \u201cThat is distressing indeed.\u201d And it was. Nevertheless, Winslow remained skeptical regarding the thief\u2019s identity. Correlation, after all, did not imply causation. The young lady might well have broken the Crown Prince\u2019s heart on the same night a common burglar snatched up the Blue Mountain Sword. Men of lesser stature than Prince Tai had seen worse luck in forty-eight hours.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nStill, it seemed the smoke of Arthur\u2019s rumors pointed indeed to a most unsettling fire. \u201cWhat is being done about the missing sword?\u201d asked Winslow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA curiously sheepish expression crossed his cousin\u2019s handsome visage. \u201cWell, nothing, for the moment.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNothing!\u201d said Winslow, aghast.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDo not raise those eyebrows at me so, Weizhe! I am he who would be your sovereign.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou are he who has misplaced one of the Kingdom\u2019s greatest treasures,\u201d Winslow corrected acidly. \u201cTai, that sword gifts its wielder with untold magical skill. It cannot be permitted to fall into improper hands. You must inform the Palace Guard! The Kunlunese Embassy in Ruritania! The Council on World Magics!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI must do nothing,\u201d retorted Tai. \u201cHave you any idea the responsibilities Mother has heaped upon my shoulders in preparation for my formal coronation as King? In the earliest hours of the morning, I must speak to Ruritanian businessmen about European trade agreements. The next, I must graciously yet firmly deny the Chinese Ambassador\u2019s fiftieth attempt to annex the Kingdom of Kunlun on behalf of the Emperor of China, who is nothing but a greedy interfering prat, if you\u2019ll excuse my say-so. The next day, I must make the same pretty denial to the Japanese Ambassador, who is even worse, and will \u2013 I am certain! \u2013 take offense that I met with his Chinese counterpart at all. Can you imagine how Mother would react were she to discover that, amidst all of this, I had managed to lose the rightful sword of our future Champion? The Kingdom\u2019s foremost protector? Why, she would be of a mind to cancel the coronation entirely, and oust me from the succession!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAh,\u201d said Winslow, comprehension dawning at last. \u201cYou fear the Queen Dowager\u2019s temper.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe Crown Prince squawked. \u201cI fear nothing!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe women in your life, I suspect, would disagree.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe women in my life are cruel and wicked harpies, the lot of them. It is why I have such need of a good Champion,\u201d the Prince added, a bit sulkily, glaring out the glass at Winslow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow considered this point. \u201cI might be persuaded to investigate this matter concerning Miss Lee and the Blue Mountain Sword, if both have truly found their way to the shores of Ruritania.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAt this suggestion, his cousin\u2019s gloomy countenance brightened considerably. \u201cWhy, but that is an excellent notion! As you are my chosen Champion, the sword will heed your call over any thief\u2019s, and thus be quite easily retrieved \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBut,\u201d interrupted Winslow, \u201cyou must consent to stop harranguing me, once and for all, about returning to the Kingdom, or serving as your Champion.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nPrince Tai\u2019s brows furrowed. \u201cYou would recover the Champion\u2019s sword, but refuse to wield it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow swallowed a sigh. \u201cI would seek out this young lady who has caused so much consternation on both your behalf and Arthur\u2019s, and ask that in return, you only leave me to run my business in peace. It is not a refusal of anything, so much as a sensible maintenance of the status quo that has served us all in perfectly good stead until now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis cousin\u2019s mouth worked. \u201cYou will seek out Mingzhu?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd you will recover the sword?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow bowed his head. \u201cI shall certainly endeavor to do so.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWell then, Weizhe,\u201d said the Prince, with an air of magnanimous archness, \u201cI suppose that is the most your family can ask of you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow, contrary to the whispers of polite Ruritanian society, was fond of Arthur Armitage, in his own way. Arthur, for all his vanity and silliness, had a sweeter heart than dour old Armitage Senior\u2019s, and had been far quicker than most of Ruritania\u2019s Western-born society to strike up friendship and business agreements alike with the quiet, displaced Kunlunese duke. Even so, Winslow\u2019s indulgent streak of affection for the younger Armitage did not prepare him for what greeted his arrival at the School of Exotic Eastern Enchantments.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur\u2019s school sat in a curious, red-lacquered building, no doubt designed to convey a Westerner\u2019s fanciful notion of Eastern architecture. Winslow suspected the golden Buddha statues bearing plates of incense in the main foyer were meant to convey a sense of serenity, but Winslow, sneezing three times in alarming succession, wished Arthur had not chosen such pungent aromas.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe had scarcely procured a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket when one of the classroom doors exploded off its hinges. With a shout, Winslow dove aside. Two Westerner youths followed the unfortunate door, trading insults in the most vociferous and ungentlemanly language Winslow had heard since his boarding school days. Battle sorcery sparked in a flurry of angry red-and-gold sparks off their Japanese-style shinai, as the pair did their level best to kill one another with the bamboo blades.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe magical-martial ways of Jianghu \u2013 from the distant Shaolin Temples of China, to the warrior-mage academies of his native Kunlunese mountains \u2013 had been as thoroughly ingrained in Winslow as the rest of his expensive, classical education. Now, he found his knees sunk into a defensive horse stance, hands shaping spells for protection and diffusion.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe never cast them. A young lady of Kunlunese extraction, startlingly lovely and visibly furious, burst from the classroom, fists full of magic. \u201cMcPherson! Denbigh! Stop this insufferable quarreling at once.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe youths paid her no heed. The woman, color going high in her pretty brown cheeks, made an exasperated sound, then launched herself into the air \u2013 a perfectly-executed use of qinggong, the lifelong scholar in Winslow noted excitedly. The power of flight was one of the great signatures of Jianghu\u2019s martial-magicians, and the sight of this technique, mastered with such casual precision, stirred something strange in his chest.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman landed in the thick of the fight and slid immediately through a series of animal stances faster than Winslow\u2019s eyes could follow, her hands a flurry. Invisible forces seized hold of the ill-tempered combatants \u2013 McPherson and Denbigh, presumably \u2013 who looked so astonished at this third-party display of sorcery that both dropped their shinai immediately.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe irate source of this magic, scowling and panting, night-black hair escaping from her chignon in wisps, pulled both fists together with an expert snap. McPherson and Denbigh rose briefly into the air, and were plopped with perfunctory efficiency before her, wriggling against sorcery-forged bonds. \u201cThat,\u201d announced the young Kunlunese lady, in precise and disdainful English, \u201cwas the most ungentlemanly display of conduct I have yet seen in Ruritania. I was given to understand that Europeans prided themselves on civility, but have witnessed little evidence of such!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCome now, Miss Lee,\u201d protested one of the youths, \u201cDenbigh insulted \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI do not care if Mr. Denbigh insulted your own grandmother!\u201d snapped Miss Lee. \u201cI came to see about improving Mr. Armitage\u2019s curriculum for civilized sorcerers, not for a pair of dueling roosters at a cockfight!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIn the somewhat shameful silence that followed, a frazzled Arthur Armitage tumbled belatedly out the classroom entrance, his clothing in uncharacteristic disarray, fair hair tousled and cravat singed. He carried a similarly singed shinai. \u201cMiss Lee!\u201d he cried, brandishing the wooden sword\u2019s burnt end. A few sparking shreds of bamboo, dislodged from the weapon, floated drearily to the floor. \u201cMiss Lee, have no fear of these gentlemen, for I am here to \u2013 Good God!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe younger Armitage cast an expression of dismay about his school\u2019s foyer, no doubt noting the scorch marks along the fashionable red wallpaper, at least one upended Buddha statue, and two Western gentlemen \u2013 one now sporting a spectacular black eye \u2013 strung up by invisible bonds before a furious Kunlunese sorceress.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNaturally, when Arthur\u2019s gaze landed at last on Winslow, he knew precisely where to lay the blame for this disastrous scene. \u201cMy word, Your Grace!\u201d he said, his severity at odds with his emphasis on Winslow\u2019s formal title of address. \u201cIf you intended to surprise me with this visit, could you not have gotten those wicked youngsters in hand before they destroyed my foyer and so traumatized poor Miss Lee?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee, who did not look remotely traumatized, rounded on Arthur. \u201cA fine thing to say, for a self-styled master of the Jianghu way who could not rein in even this pair of buffoons!\u201d She gestured toward the shame-faced pair wriggling guiltily against her magic-forged bindings.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur winced. \u201cThe lesson did get away from me, rather. However, it is nothing the Duke and myself are ill-equipped to manage.\u201d He gave the shinai a flick, single-handed, as if wielding a Chinese straight-sword. His wobbly-handed technique made Winslow, wincing, think unpleasantly of his own ill-executed sword forms from boyhood. No Chinese-trained war-mages were present, however, to give Arthur Armitage the corrective dressing-down common to unfortunate, clumsy sons of Kunlunese nobility.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTo Winslow\u2019s surprise, the shabbily-constructed spell whisked obediently through the air, and unlaced the bonds on Denbigh and McPherson, as if cast by a veritable Shaolin master. \u201cYou see, Miss Lee?\u201d said Arthur triumphantly. \u201cA delicate lotus blossom as yourself need not concern yourself with so drably masculine a practice as Eastern martial-magic. Winslow and I have the situation well in hand!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow, quite suddenly, found himself the focus of Miss Lee\u2019s razor-like attention. She really was lovely, her willowy figure pleasing, even garbed in Kunlunese men\u2019s trousers and a plain grey training tunic. Her hair, thick and dark, had half-tumbled from her sensible chignon, framing a heart-shaped face. Those long ebony eyes of hers, however, pinned Winslow in place with a most alarming expression. \u201cYou are His Grace, the Duke Winslow North, of the Family Ng, I presume?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cQuite, yes,\u201d Winslow managed, over the odd tightness in his chest. His face felt hot. \u201cA pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMabel Lee,\u201d snapped Miss Lee, whose gaze did not soften even slightly. \u201cHow can it be that the Kunlunese Crown Prince\u2019s own noble cousin has not yet enacted the necessary reforms upon your friend\u2019s preposterous institution?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPreposterous!\u201d squawked Arthur, who looked as if he might need smelling salts.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow blinked. He had not expected this line of questioning, particularly not one so vociferously delivered by such a delicate-looking woman, and found himself at a loss for how to respond. \u201cIt is not for me to dictate how Mr. Armitage is to conduct his business,\u201d he said at length. \u201cThat would not be at all the thing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee harrumphed. \u201cWhat a terribly European answer.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI can assure you, Miss Lee,\u201d said Winslow, \u201cmy blood runs as Kunlunese as yours.\u201d He felt irritated. How strange, to find himself defending his Kunlunese heritage over his Ruritanian nationality, when he was accustomed to doing just the opposite.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee said, bitterly, \u201cAnd I suppose I can count on your allegiance to your blood to assist me in recovering the Blue Mountain \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cGood God!\u201d exclaimed Winslow hastily. \u201cMiss Lee, an eye to your miscreants!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor Denbigh and McPherson, to all appearances, had fainted from the after-effects of Miss Lee\u2019s magic-forged bonds. The pair of them were keeled over one another, not unlike young spaniel pups dozing in a litter. Winslow could not help but find the pair more agreeable unconscious than not; besides, this had the additional benefit of distracting Miss Lee before she could speak further. With another grumble, she went to revive the miscreants, Arthur tut-tut-ing and exclaiming in her wake.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow, meanwhile, considered the facts of the situation. Miss Lee had intended to speak of recovering the Blue Mountain Sword, Winslow was sure of it. Given that Prince Tai was so irrevocably set on keeping its misplaced status a secret, Winslow could not have allowed its alleged thief to speak so openly of the wretched object. Though why any thief would volunteer indignant airs, feigned or otherwise, over the very treasure she had stolen, Winslow had little notion.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe frowned. Winslow did not like to find pieces of his puzzles missing, but his education and chosen occupation had instilled in him a great fondness for solving the puzzles themselves. A gifted martial-magician, a missing Kunlunese treasure, and an irate Arthur Armitage added up to a puzzle more devilish by far than securing funding for the North Enterprise\u2019s sorcery research, but Winslow knew this much: the solution to any particular problem, no matter how damnably difficult, lay in first organizing the pieces in a coherent fashion, so that further deductions might be made.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSo Winslow did the only sensible thing he could. He invited Miss Lee to the Armitage family\u2019s Winter Ball.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nInvitations to the infamous Ebenezer Armitage III\u2019s Winter Ball were among the most sought-after markers of distinction during the Ruritanian social season. Even Winslow, with his noble title, relations to foreign royalty, and good income, might have escaped the honor, were he not a particular friend of Arthur\u2019s. Arthur had pouted and exclaimed at length over Winslow\u2019s choice of companion for the evening, but agreed to Miss Lee\u2019s presence when Winslow implied that a woman bearing ill will toward an Armitage-run school might find herself softened by a social event so spectacular as an Armitage-hosted ball. For Miss Lee\u2019s part, she suffered Winslow\u2019s escort and Arthur\u2019s invitation for much the same reasons Winslow had invited her in the first place. That was, as Winslow quickly discovered: she had the most wickedly insatiable sense of curiosity imaginable.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI must say, you are a peculiar gentleman,\u201d said Miss Lee now. She was garbed magnificently in a white muslin gown, Western-cut. The style worked to her advantage, offsetting the golden-brown of her complexion, and drawing more than one admiring eye as they glided through the crowded mahogany foyer of Armitage Manor. \u201cI had thought you as craven as that insipid dandy who so mis-manages his school, but a craven man would not have invited a female martial-magician to&#8230;\u201d She sucked in a breath, as they entered the ballroom, and paused to observe their new surroundings \u2013 the elegantly-attired footmen bearing platters of delicacies, the string quartet playing a bright-noted waltz, the magnificent crystal chandelier that overlooked it all \u2013 and concluded, simply, \u201cThis.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy, Miss Lee,\u201d drawled Winslow, \u201cI do believe you may have paid me a compliment. Quite by accident, I am sure.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is no accident, sir,\u201d said Miss Lee. Then she bent close, and whispered in perfectly Kunlunese-accented Chinese, \u201cNow, tell me why you kept me from speaking of the Blue Mountain Sword in front of your friend.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI will answer you that,\u201d agreed Winslow in the same tongue, \u201cif you will tell me why you so suddenly fled the Kunlunese Palace for Ruritania.\u201d The music changed. Winslow bowed, and asked in English, \u201cMay I?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee took his arm, almost absently, as he led her to the dance floor. She flowed as easily into the waltz as she had into her Jianghu martial forms. \u201cI had taken you for a spoiled Western dandy in your own right, but I had not taken you for a fool,\u201d she said. Her feet whirled through the steps, as if dancing through air on the power of qinggong. \u201cIs the answer not obvious to you? I am here to seek out and reprehend the thief who stole the rightful sword of the Kunlunese Crown\u2019s Champion. I know he was Ruritanian, for the only foreigners at the palace that night were a Ruritanian business delegation. Any other perpetrator would have to be a Kunlunese courtier or servant, and would have been summarily caught by the Queen Dowager inside a week.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow, thinking of his aunt and quaking a little, could not disagree. Twirling Miss Lee, he said very carefully, \u201cI had thought your sudden flight might have to do with the Crown Prince. There was talk of a row, which is why I thought it best to silence any talk of a missing royal treasure, for there is no sense adding fuel to flame. Was my cousin\u2019s thwarted ardor mere gossip?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHah!\u201d said Miss Lee, spinning in his arms. \u201cYour cousin thought me a fine enough maiden to woo as a concubine, but not fine enough to acknowledge as a martial-magician. Never mind that I have trained according to Jianghu\u2019s tenets since I could toddle, that I studied with China\u2019s rather over-esteemed Shaolin monks and Wudang warriors. Never mind that I practiced my sorcery as diligently as any Kunlunese war mage, that martial-magic has been my life\u2019s work! I told the Prince, in no uncertain terms, that he could not have my love without accepting my soul\u2019s true passion, and he pitched the most astonishing tantrum! I am well rid of the silly man, however handsome he may be, but that does not excuse me from a duty to retrieve the weapon that is his Champion\u2019s right.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow looked down into her dark, gleaming-eyed gaze, and in quick succession, considered and dismissed the possibility that Miss Lee was lying. Years spent bargaining with Ruritanian and Kunlunese businessmen alike had taught Winslow to tell a good liar from a poor one. Miss Lee, for all her sorcerous prowess, was entirely too blunt to be much use at lying \u2013 or, for that matter, in business. \u201cIf all you say is so,\u201d Winslow told her, \u201cthen my cousin has no right to make such demands of a lady whose sorcerous talent he will not even acknowledge.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee met Winslow\u2019s gaze with unwavering heat. \u201cMy lord Duke,\u201d she said. \u201cWith respect, I do not need your cousin to tell me what my duty to my country is.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow fell silent. He found that his mouth had gone curiously dry. With some effort, he swallowed, and replied, \u201cI admire you, Miss Lee. But Ruritania, though not a large place, is not a small one either, and cannot be up-ended and searched like a lady\u2019s reticule in hopes that a magical sword might emerge.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee rolled her eyes. \u201cI am not so stupid as all that. We need only find a Ruritanian businessman of unlikely martial prowess \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer words \u2013 a businessman of unlikely martial prowess \u2013 struck Winslow strangely. Blood gone unpleasantly cold, he said, \u201cMiss Lee. Was Arthur Armitage among the delegation of Ruritanian businessmen?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe frowned. \u201cI could not say. I saw them only in passing, and from a distance.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHave you seen Arthur cast martial-magic before?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer frown deepened. \u201cIf it could be termed such. He looks preposterous when he tries to bring it off, you know \u2013 wearing his top-boots on to the training mat like a savage, mistaking Japanese shinai for Chinese straight-swords, and always standing wrong-footed. And yet.\u201d She hesitated.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow, with a sinking sensation, recalled what he had witnessed at Arthur\u2019s school: Arthur, weak-stanced and ridiculous, yet producing a perfect counter-spell to Miss Lee\u2019s binding ties on Denbigh and McPherson.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHis magic strikes true,\u201d she said reluctantly, then sharpened. \u201cYou do not mean to say you suspect your own friend is the thief?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe music had stopped. Dizzy and miserable and trying, with Ruritanian gallantry, to conceal both sensations, Winslow escorted Miss Lee from the dance floor. \u201cI cannot discount the possibility. I will not fling baseless accusations at any man, much less a friend, but conversation of a delicate sort may be necessary. Where has he gone, I wonder? I must seek him out at once.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThey looked. But it soon emerged, from conversation with the other ball-goers, that Arthur Armitage had been missing from his own ballroom for several hours now.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNevertheless, Winslow now harbored a grim suspicion of where, precisely, the sword itself might be.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen Winslow looked back at Miss Lee, her eyes were gleaming. \u201cHave no fear, my lord Duke,\u201d she promised, \u201cI know just what to do.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThis! Is! Not! At all! The thing!\u201d Winslow managed. He punctuated each word with a hop to a different rooftop.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPray, do not bawl so!\u201d Miss Lee called back merrily. She had already flown several rooftops ahead. Her ball gown \u2013 which should surely have proven cumbersome! \u2013 seemed to trouble her not at all. Winslow, tugging irritably at his coattails as he flew, wondered if she had altered the qinggong technique to account for Western formal dress. He must ask after the spell, he decided, assuming they both survived this misadventure.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe Armitage School of Exotic Eastern Enchantments was not so far from Armitage Manor proper, but the arched rooftops of Ruritania\u2019s capital city were damnably slippery, even for a qinggong practitioner. Nightfall, while it cloaked their activity nicely, did little for Winslow\u2019s visibility. \u201cI do not see why we could not have taken a carriage like sensible folk!\u201d he called after Miss Lee.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBecause a carriage would lack for any sense of adventure at all!\u201d she cried. \u201cIf one is to go questing for a stolen object, one might as well enjoy the journey.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou cannot be serious!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cQinggong is also more efficient by far than any horse-drawn contraption, bound as the poor creatures are to the earth. Or at least,\u201d she added, with a wicked sort of glee, \u201cmy own qinggong is. I cannot presume to speak for other parties.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYour frightfully roundabout critique of my agility, in this dire moment, is noted,\u201d retorted Winslow, scrambling over a rooftop, though he felt his mouth curve as he said it. They were very near the school, now.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was in that moment that he noted a familiar shock of strawberry-blond hair from the corner of his eye. Whirling, Winslow rounded in time to see Arthur Armitage, still in coat and tails, white-faced and wide-eyed. The dandy ran across the air toward Winslow with flailing limbs and \u2013 indeed! \u2013 improbably flawless qinggong.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow turned, and covered the distance between them with one great, furious leap. \u201cArthur!\u201d he bellowed. \u201cTell me \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut he did not have a chance to demand that Arthur tell him anything, for Arthur bellowed back, right in his face, \u201cWinslow, you must run! I have made a terrible mistake, and put your life in grave danger.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow grabbed Arthur by the arm, the fine fabric of Armitage heir\u2019s evening coat wrinkling beneath his grip. \u201cWhat on earth do you mean?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI thought my martial skill had been gained due to innate sorcerous talent,\u201d babbled Arthur, \u201cfor I was proud, and paid no heed to any other explanation. But I was, as ever, a great fool, and if you should suffer for my mistakes, I shall never forgive myself. Run, Winslow, for there isn\u2019t time to explain. I shall send for you when \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhen what, son?\u201d drawled a cold, familiar voice.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow and Arthur looked up as one. A deep grey cloud had emerged from the night, and floated down to join them on the rooftop. Standing astride the cloud was Ebenezer Armitage III, carelessly twirling the Blue Mountain Sword from hand to hand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI didn\u2019t know he\u2019d taken it,\u201d whispered Arthur. \u201cWinslow, I swear to you, I didn\u2019t know.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArmitage Senior looked how Arthur might, if the passage of decades, in addition to painting his hair grey, were to put flint behind his eyes. The resemblance between father and son could not be denied, but the perpetual sneer slashed across the father\u2019s mouth and the cold calculation in that beady gaze were all his own. \u201cMy son is correct in one matter,\u201d said Ebenezer now. \u201cHe is a very great fool.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow felt his knuckles tighten, and discovered that his hands had formed fists. Ebenezer, evidently, noticed as well, and chuckled. \u201cDo you think to fight me? How like a Kunlunese.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cFather, I beg of you, let him be!\u201d cried Arthur. \u201cWinslow had never meant us any harm. You have no true need of the North Enterprise. I do not understand why you bully him so \u2013\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWithout looking at his son, Ebenezer gave the stolen sword in his hand a flick. With a faint cry, Arthur went tumbling away through the sky.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cArthur!\u201d bellowed Winslow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, do not stoop to such histrionics, Your Grace.\u201d Ebenezer\u2019s voice, curled around Winslow\u2019s honorific title, was mocking. \u201cI would hardly do my own son true harm. I may have used this quaint little sword to bestow martial-magic upon him, as is our family\u2019s due, but he should not speak so insolently to his poor dear father. As such, I have merely put him out of convenience\u2019s way. Marvelous object, this sword!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is not yours,\u201d said Winslow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI daresay I disagree,\u201d retorted Ebenezer. \u201cHave you failed to understand anything at all, even after living so long in Ruritania? Ours is a country built on the backs of businessmen like myself. What we desire, we take. What we take, we own. Such is our right.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo you say, of a sword plucked from Kunlunese soil. How do you imagine your trade agreements with the Crown Prince will fare, when he learns of this?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, I don\u2019t imagine your cousin shall find out,\u201d said Ebenezer cheerfully. \u201cNot if you are too dead to tell him.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSlowly, Winslow raised his eyes to the cloud. The Blue Mountain Sword, glimmering with soft, silver-blue light, winked at him in the dark. \u201cAre you really announcing your intent to murder me? I cannot say I think much of your attack strategy.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDo not insult me. I am not so infernally stupid as my son,\u201d snapped Ebenezer. \u201cI am merely challenging you to a gentlemen\u2019s duel. Perfectly above board in any country, a gentlemen\u2019s duel, particularly between magicians. You cannot have any objection, Your Grace. After all, should I fall to your superior martial prowess, the sword is yours.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI do not see why you have not already run me through with the sword instead of prattling on like a feeble-minded great-aunt,\u201d observed Winslow. \u201cIt would have brought about my death far more efficiently.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd I have already told you that an Armitage would not stoop to something as unseemly as common murder. Such cowardly slaughter is gauche, and besides, will not bring me what I truly want.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI suppose you expect me to ask what you do want, so you may announce your scheme with maximum dramatic effect.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe North Enterprise.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow\u2019s head snapped up. \u201cI do not understand you,\u201d he said at length.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThen you are even stupider than Arthur,\u201d retorted Ebenezer. \u201cReally, I have been quite proper about it all. Should you slay me, the sword is your reward. But if I should slay you, it is only right that I should have my own reward. And I want your company.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy?\u201d demanded Winslow, abandoning all pretense. \u201cI have never understood it. The North Enterprise is nothing to the Armitage trading empire.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy?\u201d echoed Ebenezer. \u201cWhy not? The North Enterprise has value. All things Kunlunese do, these days, in their quaint, fashionable way.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is mine,\u201d said Winslow.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEbenezer looked predictably put out with this response, but he also looked confused. Winslow, grimly, felt no surprise. Ebenezer was the sort of man who expected no more defiance from Winslow than he would from one of his expensive, Oriental carpets. That was, perhaps, the fundamental reason Ebenezer desired the North Enterprise so very badly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe North Enterprise belongs to my family,\u201d continued Winslow. \u201cIt bears the name my father chose when he first arrived on Ruritanian shores. It bears the name that I choose, still. Names have value too, Mr. Armitage. You, of all people, ought to understand that much. Does my family\u2019s legacy truly matter so very little, in the face of yours?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe answer was obvious. Fellow Ruritanians had always made such answers obvious to Winslow, in a thousand cruel and tiny ways. The sting persisted. But it made Winslow no less Ruritanian himself.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow sank into a horse stance, slammed his hands together, and threw an attack-spell at Ebenezer\u2019s cloud.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEbenezer had not expected that. Western dueling conventions demanded announcements, a counting of paces, a proper salute. But Winslow had studied strategy at the knee of Kulunese war-mages, who had been quite put out with their Kingdom\u2019s tendency to find itself invaded by foreign powers. \u201cWhen faced with a powerful enemy,\u201d they said, \u201ceffective warfare demands the element of surprise.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow\u2019s attack-spell dissolved the cloud beneath Ebenezer, and sent the old man hurtling toward the rooftops. With a frantic snarl, Ebenezer slashed the Blue Mountain Sword through the air. The weapon glowed. Ebenezer\u2019s descent slowed, and gave him safe landing on an opposite rooftop.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLip curled, he rushed toward Winslow, feet climbing through the air, swinging the Blue Mountain Sword with a clumsy two-handed grip. It should have been easy to deflect. But the Blue Mountain Sword rendered anyone a master martial-magician. Winslow\u2019s counter-spell barely parried Ebenezer\u2019s swing, before the sword sliced back. Winslow was on the defensive now, and saw little chance of escaping.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe would soon lose, his battle, and quite shortly after, his life. Nevertheless, Winslow fought on.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEbenezer swung the Blue Mountain Sword again. As it cleaved toward Winslow\u2019s head, the air between them shimmered, and solidified. The Blue Mountain Sword clanged against the shield, but instead of piercing through, as it should have, the blade stuck. Ebenezer, uttering expletives, tried to free the weapon, to no avail.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow hadn\u2019t cast a sorcerer\u2019s shield. He looked skyward.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHallo, Winslow!&#8221;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFlying high above him was a windswept Arthur Armitage, frantically clinging to the arm of a stormy-faced Miss Lee. She landed between Winslow and Ebenezer, watching them both with much the same expression she leveled at quarreling schoolboys.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cA fine mess you have escorted me into,\u201d she snapped at Arthur, who landed beside her with a thud.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAh, well,\u201d said Arthur. He straightened his spine, then his coat lapels. \u201cIt could not be helped. Father slaying my dearest friend in a greedy rage would not be at all the thing.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow looked at Miss Mabel Lee, the Kunlunese martial-magician of the snapping black eyes and deadly, qinggong-light feet. He looked at the shield she had cast \u2013 a mortal-made shield that had somehow, impossibly trapped an immortal-forged sword of the Kingdom of Kunlun.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe understood at once.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMabel,\u201d he said. Her given name slipped unbidden off his tongue. \u201cYou must summon the Blue Mountain Sword to your own hand. It will answer your call.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer eyes widened. \u201cI haven\u2019t the faintest idea how!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow smiled. \u201cYou once told me that you did not need my cousin, or anyone else, explaining your duty to your own country. For the same reason, you need no one to explain this spell to you. The sword seeks its rightful Champion, and you have crossed an ocean to claim it. Think on what brought you to these shores, and you will understand how to call the sword, I promise you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA multitude of expressions flitted across Miss Lee\u2019s face before her features settled. Her eyes drifted shut.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe shield released the sword with a shudder. The blade winged through the air, glowing, before its hilt landed in Mabel Lee\u2019s outstretched hand. Her eyes fluttered open, and widened, as if disbelieving the sight. Then her face went utterly calm. She lifted the sword and took a defensive crouch.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEbenezer Armitage, uttering a furious growl, lobbed a sloppy attack-spell her way. It faded from existence before the sparks even reached Miss Lee\u2019s toes. He cast more, to no avail. His opponent seemed undisturbed by these increasingly desperate attempts on her life. Walking slowly down the rooftop\u2019s spine, she lifted the Blue Mountain Sword. Even now, prepared to strike a killing blow, she stood sure-footed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe sword\u2019s tip landed gently between Ebenezer\u2019s eyes. Wheezing, he glared cross-eyed and terrified at the blade. \u201cWell, girl, what are you waiting for? My life is yours.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe sword gleamed in its Champion\u2019s hand. \u201cI have no particular desire for your life,\u201d said Mabel Lee. \u201cI do not collect pieces of human existence like baubles in a treasure chest. We are not objects to be stolen away by the first brute who finds greediness in his heart.\u201d She tapped the sword smartly against Ebenezer\u2019s forehead, but did not draw blood. Her eyes met Winslow\u2019s. In the space between their gazes was a certain understanding. Newly-forged, perhaps, but soul-deep all the same.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Mabel, turning back to Ebenezer, \u201cI will not take your life, old man. Your memories of the Kingdom of Kunlun, however, do not sit well in your head. Those \u2013 and indeed, all things Kunlunese, which you find so quaint and fashionable \u2013 I believe I shall retake from your mind. After all, they were never truly yours.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEbenezer opened his mouth. Before words could emerge, the Blue Mountain Sword flared bright, like a sunbeam\u2019s flash, slicing across the eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen darkness returned, the night\u2019s battle was well and truly done.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe events that marked the night of Ebenezer Armitage III\u2019s Twelfth Annual Winter Ball quickly proved themselves the most persistent mainstays of Ruritanian gossip. More than two months past the fateful evening, businessmen in gentlemen\u2019s clubs and visiting noblewomen at salons continued to chatter about poor Ebenezer\u2019s sudden memory loss, and Arthur Armitage\u2019s commendable succession to his venerable father\u2019s place in the family business.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAbove all else, however, they spoke of the school.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI must say it has all shaken out admirably,\u201d said Arthur, as he and Winslow strode across a well-groomed lawn, just blooming into spring. The handsome building that sat atop the lawn, they thought, might house an extra suite of lecture halls. One never knew when ill-behaved schoolboys might blast the doors off one classroom, and require another. \u201cI do not believe a Winter Ball has ever been so widely talked-about! By any definition, Winslow, we must count it a success.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYour optimism is incorrigible, but heartening, in this case,\u201d agreed Winslow. He shielded his eyes against the afternoon sun, as he looked across the lawn toward the building where the new lecture halls might sit. \u201cWill this do, you think? For a school of Eastern martial-magic?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI do not know why you would require my opinion in such matters,\u201d said Arthur, and added, archly, \u201cAfter all, it shall be the North Enterprise\u2019s school, to do with as you wish.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know. I thought you might set up as a rival to me. For the press, you know. Gossips do love a histrionic rivalry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur shook his head with a sigh. \u201cI am afraid you must do without my services in that particular arena, old friend. The days of the Armitage School of Exotic Eastern Enchantments are quite behind us. Between the responsibilities of keeping up the Armitage trading business and caring for my poor, feeble-minded father, I had to let the project go. A pity, alas.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTo be sure.\u201d Winslow paused, then asked, with some awkwardness, \u201cHow is Armitage Senior?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur\u2019s dandy-perfect smile approached but stopped short of his eyes. \u201cAs well as can be expected. He knows his name, and mine, and absolutely nothing of finance or trade, or for that matter, the Kingdom of Kunlun. Still, ignorance seems to agree with him, as he finds himself cheerful, and quite content to pass most days counting foreign coin collections and reading romances, of all things. Still, it is a better pastime than his previous choice.\u201d Arthur cleared his throat. \u201cTo that end, Winslow, I ah, wondered if I might call upon our friendship once more, to beg another favor. I hope it shall prove less troublesome than the last,\u201d he added hurriedly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow\u2019s eyebrows climbed. \u201cOh?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur said, looking sheepish, \u201cI wondered if you might allow my enrollment as one of your students. At the elementary level, of course. I would be pleased to provide all the necessary tuition fees up front. I have discovered that there is, in the world, a great deal that I do not know. But I should like to learn.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow found himself smiling rather foolishly. The North Enterprise\u2019s newly established education branch had proved fruitful, thus far, to both Winslow\u2019s scholarly mind and his company\u2019s finances. Ruritanians from a great many walks of life benefited from a good education in Kunlunese sorcery fundamentals, now that trade and diplomacy alike flourished between the two countries. Winslow did not hurt for well-paying students. Still, the elementary classes could always use another friendly face and eager heart. Those, at least, had always been Arthur Armitage\u2019s to give.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow shook his friend\u2019s hand, firm-gripped. \u201cI should be pleased,\u201d he said quietly, and meant it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThey had reached the edge of the yard. Sitting cross-legged, mid-air, beneath a handsome willow tree, was Mabel Lee, in Kunlunese-wrapped silk, the petal-pink of her frock vibrant against the green of newborn spring. She was meditating, but opened one eye at the men\u2019s approach. \u201cWell met, my lord Duke. Young Mr. Armitage.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nArthur coughed delicately. \u201cHow do you do, Miss Lee? Ah, Winslow, I\u2019m afraid I must be going. I have another engagement to attend, you see. Life has been busy indeed. A lovely frock, Miss Lee.\u201d He bowed, winked at them both, and departed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee unfolded her legs, dropped her feet to the grass, and stood. A slightly awkward silence descended. \u201cI am returning to Kunlun next week,\u201d she offered at last. She sounded strangely sad. \u201cI suppose there\u2019s little help for that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow bowed his head, chest clenching, though he knew his feelings to be foolish. Mabel had already remained on foreign shores far longer than was proper for most Kunlunese Champions. Yet Winslow knew that Mabel Lee was not like most Champions the Blue Mountain Sword chose, and for that, he must speak his piece.   \u201cYou do not have to go. Well,\u201d he amended, \u201cnot immediately.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPrince Tai would probably rejoice at the delay,\u201d reflected Miss Lee.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe would rejoice less at the proposal I am about to make,\u201d said Winslow. \u201cBut I believe he may see its merits, given time, and good thought.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee\u2019s eyes found Winslow\u2019s, and lingered. \u201cA proposal?\u201d she said quietly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cA Champion who spends half the year in Ruritania, and half in Kunlun,\u201d said Winslow. \u201cIt makes a certain amount of sense, given the current shape of the world. As the two countries draw closer to one another, so to do our people. More and more Kunlunese shall become Ruritanian, just as some Ruritanians, I\u2019d wager, may build businesses and families alike in the Kingdom of Kunlun. The Crown\u2019s true protector shall have to know both shores.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMiss Lee\u2019s mouth pursed, considering. \u201cThat is not at all what I thought you were about to say.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI know,\u201d said Winslow. \u201cIt is unconventional. But then, the Blue Mountain Sword seems of an unconventional mind, these days.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, not that,\u201d said Miss Lee impatiently. \u201cYour talk of relations between Kunlun and Ruritania make perfect sense, and I shall make Tai see it, one way or another.\u201d She went oddly pink. \u201cIt was just the way you phrased the idea, that\u2019s all.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow\u2019s brow furrowed. \u201cI do not follow.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI merely thought,\u201d said Miss Lee, growing more irritable with each moment, \u201cthat you meant another kind of proposal.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA shameful number of seconds passed before her meaning made itself clear to Winslow. His heart began to thud. \u201cOh. Oh. But what of Tai? I had imagined you in love.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTai!\u201d exclaimed Miss Lee. \u201cIn love! You cannot be serious. I admit, your cousin the Prince is more charming by half than you are &#8211;\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd I am charmed by the observation, you can be sure.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201c\u2013 but he is not half so handsome to my eye, and he lacks a certain intelligent quietude I admire in men. No, I will make him a far better Champion than I will a wife. The dalliance was not all bad, despite its rather dramatic end, but then, without that end, I might never have met you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow stared openly at her. \u201cIf you are saying what I believe you mean, you may as well have out with it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer brows pinched together. \u201cThat is not at all conventional.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou are not at all conventional,\u201d retorted Winslow. \u201cBut then, nor it seems am I. That should make us well-suited, do you not agree?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh, very well!\u201d exclaimed Miss Lee, plainly at her wit\u2019s end. \u201cWeizhe of the Family Ng, my lord Duke Winslow North, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe took her hands in his. \u201cI shall.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDone,\u201d she said, as if sealing a business agreement, then planted a kiss on his mouth. It went on for some time. When he broke off, and looked down, he saw that she had floated a few inches off the ground, qinggong light, to accommodate for their height difference.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis future wife really would make a most spectacular Champion for the Kingdom.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou shall have to spend time in Kunlun as well, you know,\u201d his wife-to-be added. \u201cI am unconventional enough to believe that husbands ought to accommodate wives as often as we accommodate you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow wrinkled his nose. \u201cAnd here, I had thought myself so clever in avoiding all the Queen Dowager\u2019s invitations to the palace.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMastering your fear of rightfully fearsome aunts will improve your constitution.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe kissed her forehead. \u201cWell, Mabel, then I shall have to make do.\u201d He hesitated. \u201cI do have one question. How did you know to call me Weizhe? Hardly anyone here uses my Kunlunese name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMabel laughed. \u201cWhy, it is written on the deeds for that new school of yours! I saw that you signed your English name above the Chinese characters, but I recognized the characters first. It is a good thing,\u201d she added. \u201cI quite like Ng Weizhe, just as I have quite grown to like Winslow North. Magicians who bear two names are said to hold the strongest magic. Whyever do you suppose I chose both Mabel and Mingzhu?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou are incorrigible.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI endeavor to corrupt you,\u201d she agreed merrily. \u201cMy greatest ambition as the Crown\u2019s Champion is to raise all Kunlunese and Ruritanians alike to the same shocking level of unconventionality. I believe it shall improve relations, foreign and domestic, for both parties.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWinslow laughed. He could imagine nothing that would please him more.\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"interdimensional\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">The Interdimensional Megastar<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy C.J. Carter-Stephenson<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull Stanton hurled a brick at the Public Information Booth and watched with satisfaction as the glass fell away, taking with it the garish poster of Captain Aerial, self-proclaimed interdimensional megastar.  Sorting through the shards with his boot, he slid the poster towards him and ground his heel into the man\u2019s face \u2013 a face that apart from a few subtle differences was identical to his own.  It wasn\u2019t fair.  Why should that big-shot be raking in bluebacks hand over fist, while he had to work double shifts in a dead-end cleaning job just to buy food?  He was everything Captain Aerial was.  It should be him flying around arenas with his jetpack, singing songs to hordes of adoring fans.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFrom what he\u2019d read in interviews, their lives had diverged five years earlier when they\u2019d each received their share of the profits from the sale of his dead grandmother\u2019s house.  Gull had used the money to go on a year-long vacation, living a playboy lifestyle at the Hotel M\u00e9tropole in Monte-Carlo, Caesar\u2019s Palace in Las Vegas and various other fashionable hotels; Captain Aerial had started a small salvaging business, specializing in the collection of obsolete satellites from the earth\u2019s upper atmosphere, and discovered a revolutionary transportation device capable of opening doorways between dimensions aboard a derelict alien spaceship.  The potential applications of such a device were mind-boggling, but Captain Aerial had chosen to use it to make obscene amounts of money, first by offering interdimensional tours to a rich clientele and then by launching a music career.  The man turned out to have a pretty good voice, and once he\u2019d hired himself a decent backing band, there was no stopping him.  Flitting from universe to universe, he\u2019d achieved a widespread fame like nobody before.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAt Christmas the previous year, Captain Aerial had arrived in Gull\u2019s dimension for the first time, and the moronic public had immediately started buying his albums.  They chatted about him endlessly, blogged about him on social media, idolized him.  It was all right for them!  He wasn\u2019t their counterpart.  When they saw pictures of the bastard driving away in a Lamborghini, they weren\u2019t constantly being tormented by the thought that it should have been them.  Damn the man!  Why couldn\u2019t he have stayed in his own freaking universe?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull felt a shard of glass pressing against the side of his boot and realized he still had his foot on the poster.  He stepped away quickly.  Cops tended not to bother themselves with shitty parts of the city like this, but it was best not to take any chances.  The last thing he wanted to do was to spend the night in a cell.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAs if on cue, a siren sounded in the distance.   He hurried onwards along the street.  Concrete tenements covered with graffiti rose to either side of him, interspersed with liquor and convenience stores fortified with wire mesh, while at the end of the block there was a power station behind a high wall topped with security spikes, its four metal chimney stacks belching steam into the air above.  People said the area was up and coming, but even though there were a few building sites in evidence, it had a hell of a long way to go before it arrived.  Gull\u2019s eyes shifted to the downtown area.  It couldn\u2019t be more than a mile or two away, yet how different it looked \u2013 a forest of towers piercing the sky like giant fingers &#8211; classic American skyscrapers beaming out advertising from three dimensional monitors built into their glass facades, the pagodas of Chinatown, the fantastical creations of the bioarchitecturalists with their treelike columns branching upwards to impossible heights.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull cocked his head to the side, listening intently.  That flaming siren was getting closer.  He needed a place to hide.  He spotted a bar on an intersecting street and jogged towards it.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA sign above the door identified the place as \u2018Pitchers and Pitchers\u2019, so he wasn\u2019t surprised to find it was baseball themed.  The walls were hung with photographs of famous players and other memorabilia, and there was a waxwork figure of Babe Ruth standing in the corner.  Probably, it would have been a nice place to spend some time in its day, but now, there was a distinct air of neglect.  Most of the seats had tears in them and there were patches of mold on one of the walls.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull paused in the doorway, surveying the customers.  They were blue collar types \u2013 construction workers, truck drivers, mechanics.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe groaned as he noticed a television behind the bar projecting footage of a Captain Aerial concert.  Perhaps he should accidentally spill a drink on it to see if he could short out the circuitry.  No, tempting as it was, that kind of behavior was a good way to get himself thrown out.  Instead, he sat down on a vacant stool and ordered himself a bottle of beer.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe stared moodily at the image of Captain Aerial prancing about on stage as he raised the bottle to his lips.  He could move better than that if only someone would give him the chance.\n   <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHe\u2019s really something, isn\u2019t he?\u201d said a voice from the seat beside him.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe turned and found himself looking at a middle-aged woman with a chubby face.  She was a desperate singleton by the look of her &#8211; skirt ridiculously short, hair dyed neon pink and swept up in a gravity defying style, a thick layer of pale foundation smeared across her face to hide the wrinkles.\n <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAssuming she was referring to Captain Aerial and having no inclination whatsoever to talk about him, Gull ignored her.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou look a little like him, you know,\u201d the woman went on, unperturbed by his lack of response.  Actually, you look a lot like him.  What\u2019s your name?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull sighed.  \u201cMy name\u2019s Gull, and I don\u2019t look like him; he looks like me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman\u2019s brow furrowed in confusion.  \u201cIs there a difference?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes there is,\u201d Gull snapped.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI take it you\u2019re not a fan, then?\u201d said the woman.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull took another swig of beer and slammed his bottle down on the bar in front of him. \u201cNo, I\u2019m not.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAny particular reason?\u201d the woman asked.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t believe me if I told you,\u201d Gull replied.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBut that voice&#8230;\u201d said the woman, half closing her eyes in dreamy contemplation.  \u201cHow can you not love a voice like that?  It\u2019s so full of passion.  And those lips&#8230; what I wouldn\u2019t give to be kissed by a pair of lips like that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull blinked.  This was a come-on, wasn\u2019t it?  He looked her up and down.  She wasn\u2019t close to attractive, but he wouldn\u2019t say no if she was going to hand herself to him on a plate.  As a lowly hospital janitor, he wasn\u2019t exactly inundated with romantic interest.  He puckered up his lips.  \u201cYour wish is my command.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman looked unimpressed.  \u201cSorry sugar, but it wouldn\u2019t be the same.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMaybe not,\u201d said Gull, \u201cbut it\u2019s the closest you\u2019re gonna get.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman\u2019s eyes narrowed.  \u201cDon\u2019t you believe it.  Captain Aerial\u2019s playing the Rainbow Arena at the weekend, and I\u2019ve got a ticket and a plan to get in his pants.  I\u2019m going to hang back until he plays \u201cEvery Me Loves Every You,\u201d then I\u2019m going to jump the stage and twerk for him.\u201d  She smiled smugly as if this was truly inspired.  \u201cIt was nice talking to you.\u201d  With that, she turned away and began chatting to a man on her opposite side.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull felt a pang of disappointment.  Why was it things never went his way?  Because they were too busy going Captain Aerial\u2019s, that was why.  He gulped down the rest of his beer and went back to studying the television.  What was the singer\u2019s secret?  Why was he so damn popular?  Gull stared into his eyes as the camera zoomed in, but there was nothing there that he hadn\u2019t seen thousands of times in the mirror.  Suddenly, he had a burning desire to see Captain Aerial in person.  Perhaps then, it would all become clear.\n <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOnce the idea had occurred to him, it was hard to shake.  He thought about it as he stepped out of the bar a few hours later, he thought about it as he watched a group of girls taking pictures of themselves with a billboard poster of Captain Aerial through the sky-bus window on his way home, and he thought about it the following evening at the hospital as he dragged an industrial strength vacuum cleaner around the maze of insipid corridors.  Yes, he needed to do this, and the gig at the local arena was the perfect opportunity.  All he had to do was buy a ticket.  It would cost him a small fortune no doubt, but that was life.  If the worst came to the worst, he could always sell an organ to raise the money.  He\u2019d done it before.  In this day and age, the artificial replacements they were giving out were almost as good as the real thing.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSo it was that when the time came for him to take his break, Gull headed straight to the staff room \u2013 a soulless basement affair with three vending machines and plastic furniture \u2013 and posted an online ticket request with his phablet.  Within minutes, he was inundated with replies, all saying the same thing \u2013 the concert had sold out months ago.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull tossed the phablet onto the table in front of him and went to buy a packet of potato chips.  As he did so, an advert on an interactive notice board beside the vending machine caught his eye.  He was in luck.  One of the E.R. doctors had a ticket on sale.  He would have to move fast, though.  At the price the doctor was asking \u2013 face value for a quick sale \u2013 people would be lining up to buy it.  Tucking his potato chips under his arm, he punched out a response on the on-screen keyboard.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull received a call from the doctor before he had even sat down.  It turned out the man had not yet finished work for the day and wanted to sell him the ticket immediately.  Gull agreed, went up to see him, and after a moment\u2019s hesitation when it came to actually transferring the money, the deal was done.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull pulled a Kevlar jacket out his closet \u2013 glossy black with replica muscles molded into the chest \u2013 held it up against himself and then let it fall to the floor.  The look was right, but it was too restrictive for dancing.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis gaze shifted to the clock on his bedside table.  He\u2019d been doing this for over an hour, but he wasn\u2019t about to stop.  Not until he\u2019s found something suitable.  He didn\u2019t want Captain Aerial seeing him at the gig and thinking he was some hapless loser.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIn the end, he opted for an outfit similar to one he had seen the megastar himself wearing in a photograph once \u2013 black cargo pants and a spiky rubber shirt.  He nodded in satisfaction as he examined the items in the mirror.  Then, he started to look for a pair of shoes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull made sure he got to the arena two hours early, so he wouldn\u2019t end up stuck at the back of the audience, but already, a seething mass of fans were waiting in line outside.  By the looks of it, some of them had been there all day.  He shook his head as he stepped off the sky-bus and went to join them.  How could one man inspire such mania?\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe did his best to be polite as a weasely trader in dark sunglasses and a gold medallion sidled up to him and attempted to sell him a souvenir t-shirt.  He couldn\u2019t think of anything worse than walking around with a picture of Captain Aerial emblazoned across his front, but he couldn\u2019t say as much.  If the fanatical idiots in the line heard him dissing their beloved hero, there was no telling what they would do.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull studied the arena as he waited impatiently for the doors to open.  Standing in stark isolation on the edge of the city with a rocket-shaped observation tower and colour changing walls, it was a wonder of modern architecture.  It had caused controversy when it was being built because of spiralling costs and a succession of missed deadlines, but once it was completed, the public had fallen in love with it.  New York had the Statue of Liberty, San Francisco had the Golden Gate Bridge, and they had the Rainbow Arena.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull tensed as the crowd began to file inside.  A couple in front were staring over their shoulders at him.  He fiddled with his phablet self-consciously, trying to focus on a friend\u2019s face looming out of a newly posted hologram.  Didn\u2019t they know it was rude to stare?  He was just considering slipping back a few places in the line to escape their gaze, when the man \u2013 a lanky youth with a Mohican haircut \u2013 stepped up to speak to him.  \u201cThat\u2019s a great face.  If I saw you and Captain Aerial next to each other, I don\u2019t think I could tell you apart.  How much did it cost you?\u201d  Judging by his slurred words, he was more than a little stoned.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNothing,\u201d Gull replied irritably.  \u201cI was born with it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman &#8211; who was a foot taller and twice the man\u2019s weight with matted dreadlocks &#8211; giggled incredulously.  \u201cSure you were, and I\u2019m the Queen of England.  Surgery\u2019s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.  Not when it\u2019s such a bitching success.  Kudos to you for being the biggest Captain Aerial fan here.\u201d\n <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull gave a long sigh.  There was no point arguing with them.  They\u2019d obviously made up their minds about him and nothing he said was going to convince them they were wrong.  The best way to deal with people like this was to humour them in their delusions and hope they went away.  \u201cThanks,\u201d he said through gritted teeth.  \u201cI do my best.\u201d\n <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe turned away, focusing on the door ahead as the line continued to shuffle forward, but the man stepped back into his eyeline.  \u201cSince you are such a dead ringer for Captain Aerial, would you mind posing for a picture with us when we get inside?  We\u2019ll make it worth your while with a free beer.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019ll think about it,\u201d Gull replied, dismissing the idea out of hand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe girl clapped her hands, lips curling upwards in a goofy smile.  \u201cGoody!  We\u2019ve never hung out with anybody rich before.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m not rich,\u201d Gull protested.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou\u2019re rich enough to change your face,\u201d said the man.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull rolled his eyes.  Could these idiots be any more wrong about him?  He forced himself to stay civil as they continued walking, but by the time they reached the door, his patience was wearing thin.  Fortunately, he was able to give them the slip during the routine security check.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe paused at one of the bars to buy himself a drink and then proceeded through a doorway to the arena floor.  The place was filling up rapidly, but with a little artful maneuvering, he succeeded in pushing his way to the front.  Squeezing between two groups of chattering teens, he placed himself directly in front of the safety barrier and looked expectantly at the stage.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe had been there less than five minutes, when the shoving started.  Nothing was actually said, but it was clear what was going on \u2013 the teenagers to his right thought he was encroaching on their space and were trying to force him to move on.  He glared at them out of the corner of his eye, breath coming in sharp bursts.  If they thought they could intimidate him, they had another thing coming.  The jostling got worse, but still he ignored it.  Then it escalated into full-blown ramming.  He locked his arms together, clinging tenaciously to the safety barrier, as someone grabbed his shoulder and attempted to haul him backwards.  Little shits!  He had as much right to be there as they did.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFailing in its objective, the hand was withdrawn, but no sooner had he started to relax, than somebody punched him in the ribs.  He stumbled away from the barrier, gasping for breath.  A leg shot out behind him and the next thing he knew he was on the ground.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhile he was struggling to collect his thoughts, a grizzled face appeared over him.  He raised his hands defensively.  He needed to take control of this situation or his ass was going to get seriously kicked.  He drew back his fist, getting ready to punch the person in front of him, and then lowered it again.  It was a security guard.  Thank God for that.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWith an air of businesslike efficiency, the guard held out his hand to help him to his feet and then froze, a look of disbelief spreading across his face.  \u201cWhat are you doing here?  Some kind of audience meet and greet, I guess.  Well, if you don\u2019t mind me saying so, it was seriously stupid.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull looked blank.  Then, it dawned on him \u2013 the man had mistaken him for Captain Aerial.  His thoughts began to race.  What if he could use his appearance to blag his way backstage?  He\u2019d been hoping to get close to his famous counterpart and this was the perfect chance.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe security guard tapped a communicator badge on his shirt and bent his head towards the microphone.  \u201cThis is barrier security.  I need first aiders here pronto.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull thrust out his hand, placing it over the microphone to cut the man off.  The fewer people who were involved in this, the more likely his plan was to succeed.  \u201cNo first aiders.   Just get me to my dressing room.\u201d  The security guard nodded and helped him to his feet.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull smiled as he noticed his teenage assailants being manhandled towards the exit.  All\u2019s well that ends well.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe guard hooked an arm around Gull\u2019s shoulders to support him and led him past the barrier to a door at the side of the stage.  He pressed his eyes to a retinal scanner on the wall and the door swung open.  \u201cAre you sure you aren\u2019t hurt?\u201d\n <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOnly my pride,\u201d said Gull as the guard helped him along a series of corridors into the heart of the backstage area.  The corridors were clogged with people, but although a few of them asked him if he was hurt, not one of them challenged him about his right to be there.  Like the guard, they all assumed he was their star performer.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCaptain Aerial\u2019s dressing room was situated with a group of others not far from the cafeteria.  Arriving at the door, which was instantly recognizable thanks to a star shaped identity plaque, Gull stepped away from the security guard and thanked him for his help.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThink nothing of it,\u201d said the security guard.  He turned to go, and then hesitated, looking Gull up and down.  \u201cAbout those first aiders&#8230;\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull waved his hand dismissively.  \u201cThank you for your concern, but I really am fine.  I\u2019m tougher than I look.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe security guard looked doubtful, but didn\u2019t press the matter. \u201cI\u2019ll be going then.  Try and stay out of trouble.\u201d  With this, he hurried away.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull paused.  He should plan out how he was going to play this.  Then again, the longer he stood here, the more chance there was of getting caught.  Besides, Captain Aerial would be going on stage before much longer.  If he was going to do this, he needed to do it now.  He checked his appearance with the selfie-cam on his phablet, and then opened the dressing room door.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe room beyond was much as he would have expected \u2013 warm and tastefully decorated with a fridge, a clothes rail, a panoramic vanity mirror edged with lights and an en suite shower room.  Captain Aerial was sitting in front of the mirror running through some vocal warm-ups.\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull stepped into the room and closed the door.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHearing the latch click into place, Captain Aerial leapt to his feet and spun around.  \u201cWho the hell are you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFor a moment, Gull couldn\u2019t speak.  This was a pivotal point in his life and he didn\u2019t want to screw it up.  \u201cI\u2019m you,\u201d he said at last, taking a step forward.  \u201cThe you from this universe.  Can we talk?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCaptain Aerial looked shocked.  \u201cNot a chance.  I have nothing to say to you.  Besides, I\u2019ve got a show to do.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe tried to move to the door, but Gull blocked his path.  \u201cI just want to know why your life is so great and mine is so crap.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe luck of the draw,\u201d said Captain Aerial coldly.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull stared at him, all of his anger and resentment bubbling to the surface.  \u201cThat isn\u2019t good enough!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCaptain Aerial shuffled his feet nervously and reached for a phablet on the table behind him.  \u201cIt\u2019ll have to be, because your butt is about to be ejected.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBefore he knew what he was doing, Gull had lunged forward and knocked the phablet to the floor.  \u201cGuess again.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSecurity!\u201d Captain Aerial shouted, making another dash for the door.  \u201cI need help in&#8230;\u201d\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe words died in his throat as Gull\u2019s fist collided with his face.  Gull watched in morbid fascination as he crumpled to his knees, blood gushing from his nose.  Suddenly, a terrible thought crept into his mind.  What if he were to kill Captain Aerial?  The man\u2019s rock and roll lifestyle would be his for the taking.  All he need do was hide the body in some parallel universe and nobody would ever know.  No!  The murder of another human being was wrong.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nExcept, this wasn\u2019t another human being.  It was an alternate version of himself.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe clenched his fists as Captain Aerial began to struggle to his feet.  Then he plunged forwards, fastening his hands around the megastar\u2019s throat.  He was sick of being the poor reflection.  Captain Aerial fought violently as he tightened his grip, but he hardly noticed.  He knew what he wanted and nothing was going to stop him getting it.  He pressed harder, harder still, smiling as his victim\u2019s windpipe throbbed beneath his fingers.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCaptain Aerial thrashed around, eyes bulging.  \u201cLet me go&#8230;  Please&#8230;  I don\u2019t want to die&#8230;\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGull\u2019s hands tightened.  Wretched excuse for a man, begging for his life.  You\u2019d never catch him doing that.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOnly when he felt Captain Aerial\u2019s body go limp did Gull let go.  His hand shifted mechanically around the star\u2019s throat, searching for a pulse.  Then, satisfied he was really dead, he punched the air.  Yes!  Now he was the interdimensional megastar.  There were still a few practicalities to take care of, of course \u2013 first and foremost the disposal of the body \u2013 but these could wait.  He wanted to enjoy this moment.  He walked to the clothes rail, picked out a trench coat covered in octagonal mirrors.  He would look great in this.\n <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe held the coat against himself, only to freeze as the sound of laser fire rang out across the room and a searing beam of energy tore into his stomach.  He pressed his hands to it, toppling into the wall.  It was agony, like standing under a cascade of boiling oil.  He couldn\u2019t stay up right, couldn\u2019t see.  He was falling, falling&#8230;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGulliver A. Stanton shoved his laser pistol back into his pocket and closed the dressing room door, looking at the bodies on the floor.  How strange that this third version of himself should have made a play for Captain Aerial\u2019s crown on the exact same day as he had.  Where had he come from?  Had his interdimensional transport device malfunctioned as well, stranding him in this godforsaken reality or was this the Gulliver A. Stanton that belonged here?\n  <\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNo matter.  He was dead now, leaving this Gulliver A. Stanton free to start living Captain Aerial\u2019s wonderful life, not to mention giving him the means to return to his own universe.  He would be a fool not to learn from the experience, though.  It didn\u2019t matter where he went or what he did, he must always remember to watch his back, because as he had seen today, when you were an interdimensional megastar, there was always someone waiting to take your place&#8230; literally.\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"haze\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">White Haze<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy Jacob Adams<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSweat runs down my cheek and drips from my chin. My shoulders ache and my chest burns. I stab the shovel into the ground and look up. She\u2019s looking at me with sweat glistening on her face from the harsh sunlight. I wipe my brow and tell her to hand me the seed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFrom her pocket, she removes a tiny object, round, with hard ridges that are almost like spikes. She hands it to me. Sunlight graces the edge of the hole. I plant the seed and jump out.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe looks at me. \u201cYou have anything you want to say?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI look to the flatlands behind us, the empty field and the house about three miles from ours. The sun bleeds orange light over the land like a severed artery, and though the world has its own set of colors\u2014green, brown, and blue\u2014all has been blanketed in the giant star\u2019s saturation. The wind kicks and dust lifts from the arid terrain and funnels into a twister, rising high into the sky and dissipating. What trees surround us bend and sway with the wind, the pine needles howling as the air wisps through the branches.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shake my head.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe closes her eyes and kneels before the hole. The shovel is next to her, and the shadow of her and the tool stretch out over the bull grass. She raises her clasped hands to her mouth and whispers. The gusting wind ceases, and I hear her say \u2018amen\u2019 before she runs her hands over her thighs, stands, and brushes her knees off.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLet\u2019s cover this little guy and get it some water,\u201d she says and looks at me. \u201cI hope this works.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhite surrounded me, silence engulfed me, and cold burrowed into my core.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHaze drifted with slow ethereal movement; swelling, then shrinking. Pillars were hidden in the fog, disappearing when the haze thickened. I sat up and noticed people walking about with empty expressions on their faces. Their footsteps were muted. Their legs were hidden in the haze. There was no color.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI rubbed my temple. Pain surrounded the left side of my skull. At the back of my head was an incessant urgency to remember something. Yet the pain stopped me from pursuing that need, planting me in this foreign landscape.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA stranger approached me, bent, and held out a hand. He had white hair and wire rimmed glasses. His smile gave just a hint of color to his otherwise whited-out face. I took his hand and he pulled me up. Cold gripped me from inside and I shivered. My teeth chattered, but there was no sound.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cGood morning,\u201d the old man said, his voice cutting through the white and yet suffocated by it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCold,\u201d I said, then pushed hair from my face. \u201cWhy is it so cold?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou\u2019ll get used to that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe pain in my head increased, pumping. The urge to remember returned, and I wanted to reach into my mind and pull out whatever was causing this great agony, what felt like would explode if I didn\u2019t figure it out.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe old man looked at me. \u201cYou doing all right? You look paler than most.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMost?\u201d I said, and put the heel of my hand on my head. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on here? What\u2019s with this place?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe toyed with his glasses. \u201cI couldn\u2019t explain even if I wanted.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhere are we?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe old man looked around. \u201cMight be able to say it\u2019s a holding station.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stared. \u201cYou mean a prison?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe gestured to those appearing and disappearing from the haze. \u201cYou see any prison bars?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWeariness kicked in, and standing became too much. \u201cWhat\u2019s happened?\u201d I closed my eyes against the throbbing hurt. \u201cWhy am I here? What the hell is going on?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe old man said, \u201cThere\u2019s a bench over yonder, we should sit.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nPain spiked my brain as if someone drove a metal stake into it. I held out my hand and the old man guided me. Out of the white, the bench appeared. He helped me down and I heaved a deep sigh that disturbed the haze. The old man joined my side, swinging an arm over the bench\u2019s back.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nPeople came and went\u2014figures dressed and faded in white, forgotten when the haze took them\u2014some passed glances, but there wasn\u2019t an ounce of vitality on anyone\u2019s face. The silence of their movements made me quiver; this wasn\u2019t the world I knew, this was someplace else.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPardon?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked at the old man.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou said something.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shook my head. \u201cI didn\u2019t.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes you did. You said something wasn\u2019t right.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI rubbed my head. \u201cWhat happened to me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI can\u2019t answer that. I have no idea where you\u2019re from or what you\u2019re supposed to be doing. But you are here, and there\u2019s something you need to know.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nScreeching sounded from afar, and I raised my attention to the shifting haze. People who had been moving about halted and turned. The sound grew louder, and I recognized it as a subway train. The white parted and formed a pathway, revealing tracks and tunnel openings.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThis a train station?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou could say that,\u201d the old man said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDear Jesus God!\u201d someone shouted. People turned. The haze shifted. It was a woman, her hair brown with streaks of white around her ears. She wore glasses, the lines on her face copious, tracing around her features like race tracks. Her face was locked in an expression of realization and fear.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI remember!\u201d she said. \u201cOh my God, I remember what happened! I remember it all!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe train entered the station. The doors opened in silence.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEveryone turned to the woman.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe whimpered. \u201cDon\u2019t make me leave.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nRed light beamed from the open train doors, coloring the colorless world, saturating a pathway from the train to her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d I said. \u201cWhat\u2019s she remembered?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe old man looked at me. \u201cWhat we are all here to do.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPlease,\u201d the woman cried. \u201cI want to do so much more. I can\u2019t leave. I can\u2019t! I need another chance!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe pain in my head grew worse. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple. The woman\u2019s cries filled my head, echoing within the empty caverns of my memory.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said, speaking to someone. I tried to look up, but the light created new pain in my head, putting pressure on my haggard brain. She continued to beg. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry! Let me talk to my husband. Let me at least tell him I love him!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nUnderstanding struck me and the pressure disappeared. I looked at the train, saw the woman enter the red light, pleading as she went, then the doors shut and her cries were silenced. The train began to leave.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked at the old man. \u201cI\u2019m dead!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe man returned his attention to me and gave a single nod. \u201cYou got the first step right.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe last of the train exited the station, and silence resumed its ironclad grasp upon the desaturated world. My eyes grew heavy, and I leaned over and closed my eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe bedside window is open, the air is thick and heavy with overnight rain. Birds sing and a hawk screams. The radio comes on and the DJ talks about the weather, how the so far defunct summer is coming to an end because the heat begins today. When it comes time to switch to sports, he tells me to open my eyes because there\u2019s something I need to see. I roll to my side and slap the snooze button, yet that only kills the music. The DJ tells me to open my eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI open them.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe\u2019s there, looking over me, her blue eyes bright, her smile so wide I can see the pink of her gums. Her curly hair spills out around her, framing her face, showing off the youthful cheeks I said would follow her to old age.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCome on, sleepy butt! I got something I wanna show you!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI swing my feet to the floor and slip on a pair of shorts. She pulls me along before I can get a shirt. Out into the sun we go. Morning has just arrived, bugs zip around my head, light berths from the eastern horizon, illuminating soft yellow that fades into the light blue sky. While the air is hot and sticky, there is still a residual cold in the wet grass, a soft and cool layer of air hovering over the ground like a fine mist.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWe enter the garden, and the sunflowers look amazing, so do the radishes and tomatoes, but we haven\u2019t come for that, we\u2019ve come for what we planted behind the bushes on the north side of our property. We round those bushes, and there, standing out from the mound of dirt is a single sprouted leaf.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWell look at that,\u201d I say.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe pumps her fists into the saturated air. \u201cThis thing loved the rain last night! And here I was worried the poor guy drowned.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWith the hole as deep as I made it, I\u2019m surprised it didn\u2019t.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe need a name!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cA name?\u201d I look at the leaf, then back to her. \u201cIs it a boy tree or girl tree?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer brows tighten, a question she had not thought of.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow about Luvora?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLu\u2026Luvork\u2026Lu..what?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLu-vor-a.\u201d I nod. \u201cIt\u2019s a good gender-neutral name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt doesn\u2019t even sound like a name.\u201d Her face goes to work as her mind processes my proposal. In the past, she was the one to give names, ones that were always simple. Our cat named David Thomas. Her Mustang named Doug. The look on her face says how bad she thinks the name is, but she bites her lip and nods. \u201cI can live with that. Luvorka it is!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou mean Luvora, right?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes, yes, of course!\u201d She hugs me. \u201cWe have our own tree!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI hold her body close to mine, gazing over the flatlands, how it\u2019s sprinkled with diamonds in the sunlight. I smell the wet grass and listen to the birds and cicadas, and revel in the feeling of home.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI opened my eyes and saw the haze.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe old man sat next to me, the others of this world having returned to waltzing around in silence. My attention went to the old man, who watched me with a look of pity.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNot often we get someone who blacks out after seeing the train.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI turned to the crowd. Images came to me; a compost heap, garden tools, the flatlands and an alfalfa field, a wedding ring sliding onto a delicate finger. They flashed so fast I could barely comprehend what I saw. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, then raised my attention to the people and their carefree struts.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIs this normal?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThese people. Here. All just\u2026you know.\u201d I waved my hands. \u201cActing like being here is no big deal?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow do you mean?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI mean, they\u2019re dead, right? If I know it, they know it, doesn\u2019t that bother them?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe observed the silent crowd. \u201cEvery so often, we get someone who wants to deny and fight. They create a lot of ruckus, but they never last long.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cIn some ways, they\u2019re the lucky ones.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe looked at me. \u201cBecause they get to move on.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAnd what about that woman?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe raised an eyebrow. \u201cWhich one?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe one just taken. She made a lot of noise over remembering. Didn\u2019t seem like anyone really minded that much.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe old man gave a half-hearted grin. \u201cIf you only knew how long some of these folks have been here\u2026how hopeless the wait can be.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo\u2026so wouldn\u2019t someone like that try to sneak onto the ride when it shows?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo one wants to get on the train.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stared. \u201cNo one?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe shook his head. \u201cNot the one that\u2019s been coming.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI observed the tracks running through the station.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIs this a train station? Where does the train go?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s a station alright, but where it leads I have no idea.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDoes anyone?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo,\u201d he whispered.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI clasped my hands. \u201cHow long have you been here? How long is someone stuck here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe shrugged. \u201cTime is different here, so it\u2019s impossible to really know. Have you had any firings?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cFlashes or images of important things. Your mind gets wiped clean when you get here, I think so we don\u2019t immediately panic about the impermanence of our mortality. For those who have transcended, they began with receiving images, first randomly, then after a while they connect and memories form.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nDancing curtains. White. Thin. Swaying in the wind. I shake off the vision, but it returns, this time with a voice calling for me, the voice of the woman who wants me to wake up, the voice of the woman who helped plant the tree. I dropped my face into my hands. Pain returned to the left side of my head, though dulled in comparison to the first wave. The slow throb rattled my brain, forced white into the edges of my sight.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat in the hell is wrong with you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnother man. Tall and thin, his head shaved and a great gray beard hanging from his square jaw, his alert eyes pierced mine with intensity. His face was a maze of lines and wrinkles, wrapping around his eyes and mouth in a never-ending pattern.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWho\u2019re you?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDon\u2019t know. Do you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stared. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t have asked if I did.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI bet you know none of us know who we are. So why ask a question you already know the answer to?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI didn\u2019t,\u201d I said. \u201cAgain, that\u2019s why I asked the question.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes, you wanted to obtain information, but you\u2019ve gotten all the information you can get from anyone here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHis face was so worn and withered it reminded me of leather, and there seemed to be a problem with his hip, noticeable in the way he struggled to stand and walk. His eyes were green and alert.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat\u2019s with your hip?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBroke it.\u201d He slapped it a few times. \u201cCame to me in a dream. I think God did it to me so I could learn from it. I sat over in that corner not long after I showed up and whispered to God to give me an answer to my ailing side. A little later I got an image of myself skating on ice and slipping. Heard my hip snap.\u201d His eyes focused as he considered me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou been here a while?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe let out a bark of laughter, one that would\u2019ve filled the air with joy, but the white stole it away. \u201cBeen here since I can remember, but wait! That\u2019s everyone!\u201d He let out another bark.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou were given images from God?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe nodded. \u201cYes, yes I was. He came through for me in a big way, but He hasn\u2019t given me anything since, and\u2026well, I can\u2019t tell how long I\u2019ve been here but it sure as shit feels like it\u2019s been too long.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked at the old man sitting next to me. He nodded. \u201cSome never remember.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat happens to them?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe man pointed to a woman in a maroon dress. She was impeccably put together, but in her eyes was a look of such vacancy that any emotion inserted into them would have been better than the emptiness present. She looked around, confused, uncertain, touching the side of her neck, then put her attention on her matching colored purse, and fumbled about it. She removed a phone and looked at the lock screen. Whatever color had been present on her complexion vanished and she screamed in silence. The haze stirred, swelled, and concealed her in white.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWhen the fog settled, she was gone.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI walked about the white with the people.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEveryone had the vacant stare of an individual who had given up the hope and possibility they would ever remember who they were. Those in the center of the crowd were the most lifeless, and it was them who walked with their arms hanging before them, their heads tilted to the side, their eyes glossed over.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThrough the sea of white, I noticed a stitch of color, and headed for it. I shoved hands in my pockets and avoided eye contact. As I shifted through the crowd, I came upon the woman in the maroon outfit. She was still looking at her phone with her back facing me, after a moment, she peered over her shoulder. There was an expression of great bewilderment as she studied me, but she stowed away her phone and turned.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCan you help me? I\u2019m\u2026I\u2019m trying to find my son. Have you seen him? He\u2019s about your height, maybe a little taller, with long hair and big, black glasses. I\u2019ve been trying to call him but\u2026he won\u2019t answer.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shook my head. \u201cNo, ma\u2019am, I haven\u2019t.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer face tightened, and she scratched the back of her head. \u201cI\u2026I could\u2019ve sworn he was just here. I was walking over to the concession stand to get food and a drink\u2026a hotdog and nachos, that\u2019s right, and\u2026\u201d She drifted, her colorless eyes staring into the fog. She looked at me, and there was a moment where light ignited within her eyes, like she was coming to a realization, but emptiness returned to her gaze and she carried on, her brows pinched together.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI moved on, glancing over my shoulder as the woman in maroon asked another the same question she had asked me. I came upon the tunnel running through the station, where the train rolled in, and peered into the black hole. Reaching out for the darkness, my hand stopped at the black veil as if touching glass.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWon\u2019t do ya any good.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI turned to the voice. It was a young boy, perhaps sixteen, maybe younger. He wore red DC shoes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDone gone tried that, man.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cYou tryin\u2019 to escape?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe looked at me as if I were playing him. I sat down and he came forward.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYeah, went and tried it out for ya, man. Sorry to tell you. Sucks \u2018cause I\u2019d like to know how to get out of here. Been here forever, dude.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow long?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe showed me his bare wrists. \u201cI ain\u2019t got no watch, and I lost my phone forever ago. What you here for? Wait, do you know why you\u2019re here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shook my head.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cFuckin\u2019 A. No one does. You hearing the shade everyone\u2019s throwin\u2019? That we\u2019re dead and tryin\u2019 to remember why we died? Isn\u2019t that fucked or what? Don\u2019t look like anyone is trying for anything.\u201d He kicked the haze. \u201cGet any dreams?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo. Do you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAll the time. Hate \u2018em. Makes me feel like I\u2019m not here. Like, I\u2019m dying or lost contact with wherever I\u2019m supposed to be. It\u2019s\u2026like, I went to lay down to take a nap, and someone went in my brain and took out all the shit I was supposed to remember.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cWeird to say, I bet, but, dude, I\u2019m tellin\u2019 ya, something about this place ain\u2019t right. Everyone here be walkin\u2019 around like they lost connection with themselves and I tell ya, that ain\u2019t goin\u2019 to be me. Plus, they all stare when the train comes, then just act like nothing happened when it leaves.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo that last stop\u2026?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTotally the norm.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI studied the boy, noticed that not only were his shoes bright red, but his shirt was navy, and his khakis were brown.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cKnow your name?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cTrent. Can\u2019t quite remember my last name \u2018cause I\u2019m pretty sure I hit my head somewhere before getting here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIs it a dull throb, on the left side of your head?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTrent looked at me with bewilderment. \u201cHow?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSame pain.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSomeone come at you with a two by four?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDon\u2019t think so. How come you know your name?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe raised his eyebrows. \u201cIt\u2019s my name. How can I not know it? You\u2019re given the name when you\u2019re born. Wait, have you forgotten yours?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI don\u2019t know if I even have a name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh man, that sucks! Hey, have you had any memories?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI didn\u2019t answer.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHey, well, check it, man. If you wanna get some answers, take a nap. I hate the dreams, but you might dig them. Plus, we got nothin\u2019 but time in this dump, so might as well catch up on sleep anyway, right? The chill of the place kinda makes it hard to get any decent rest, but some is better than none. It\u2019s my answer to everything.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHit a roadblock, time for a nap?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYeah, dude! Can\u2019t tell ya how many times it\u2019s saved me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI turned away, gazed into the black hole of the tunnel. \u201cDon\u2019t know if I need saving.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou do.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked at him, surprised.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDon\u2019t take it personal! We all need it. You at least seem a little more with it than the rest of these dudes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThis place is like some kind of marijuana induced dream.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTrent smiled. \u201cYeah it is. But listen, that train is gonna be here soon.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow you know?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cGot a feeling.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNot much of a feeling guy, Trent.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe rolled his eyes. \u201cOkay, fine. Check that chick over there.\u201d He gestured to the woman in maroon. \u201cShe\u2019s been gaining color to her outfit for, like, a while now, and she\u2019s acting a little more alert.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2026I don\u2019t think that\u2019s what\u2019s going on with her.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo, dude, listen! She\u2019s coming out of it, waking up from the trance everyone is in, and that train is gonna show up when she remembers what she\u2019s doing here, and I\u2019m gonna jump that train when it leaves.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCan you do that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cFuck if I know, man!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI smiled, then noticed the color on him, and compared it to the woman in maroon. \u201cYou sure you don\u2019t buy what people are saying about this place?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPsssh, please, this is some kind of gag place, you know? It\u2019s a maze, or some part of one, and when I jump that train, Imma get outta here and be free as a bird!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy attention went back to the woman, her attentiveness to the surroundings and the disconcerting look on her face.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHey, you wanna jump this train with me? We could not be stuck here like the rest of these losers.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI got to my feet. \u201cI\u2019m going to snooze on it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe pointed at me and gave a crooked grin. \u201cNow you\u2019re thinking. When you hear her scream, you\u2019ll know it\u2019s time.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI didn\u2019t give my word, yet I didn\u2019t deny it either. When I found a corner to settle into, I closed my eyes and let the cold white drop me into a deep sleep.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s been a while,\u201d she says and looks at me. I look at her. \u201cBeen a while since we looked at our tree Luvorkian.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI narrow my eyes at her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe smiles, sets her cup down. \u201cYou want to check on it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s a tree. It\u2019s not going anywhere.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cCould be drowning in this rain.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI don\u2019t argue this. What I say is, \u201cWe\u2019ll get soaked.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe stands. \u201cSince when has the weather been a deciding factor in your life? Since when did the things on the outside influence what goes on within?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stare with crinkled brows. \u201cYou serious?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe must venture outward.\u201d She points towards the garden. \u201cTo our place of destiny, the place we must hold sacred and dear to our hearts!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI laugh.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe go where no one has gone before. We embrace that which everyone upon this planet spends their life looking for.\u201d She looks at me, shrugs, then says. \u201cWe go to the great muddy trenches in search of our friend Luivorky!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou\u2019re messing up the name on purpose.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe looks at me with feigned confusion, then backs into the rain. \u201cI\u2019ve got to have some way to make it interesting. Levorkian sounds nice.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo it doesn\u2019t, because it\u2019s Luvora!\u201d I say. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing hard about the annunciation, either!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is when you have a lisp!\u201d She turns and runs.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI call her name\u2014a name lost in the rain\u2014and run after her. The tree is fine. We both know this, and visual confirmation of the tree gives us the chance to laugh and play. We wrap up in each other\u2019s arms and she laughs with her head tilted to the sky. I kiss her neck and relish the sound of her voice. She touches my face, her fingers warm, and I consider her blue eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe smiles. \u201cIt\u2019s only a name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s more than that.\u201d I wipe water and hair from my face.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe tree is beside us, now two leaves instead of one. Her bun has fallen apart, and I undo the last of it and her thick curls roll down around her. Soon they become black wires tracing across her face, and I push them aside to her see her bright eyes. Her youthful cheeks are filled with color.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s more than just a name.\u201d I whisper.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSay mine.\u201d Her eyes focus on mine. \u201cI like it when you say my name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I do, many times, to the point where she\u2019s giggling as I shout her name into the raining heavens\u2014a name I can\u2019t remember. We kiss, and when we disengage, she whispers my name into my ear.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut I don\u2019t hear it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHey man, wake up.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI turned away from the shaking, saying let me sleep a moment longer.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo dude, wake up!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI denied the request, telling them to come back in a few, I\u2019ll be ready then.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDude! Wake the fuck up!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI opened my eyes. Trent knelt before me, his hair pushed back and his eyes wide. Color invaded every part of him, and the expression on his face was that of worry.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI am dead,\u201d he whispered. Tears welled in his eyes. \u201cI\u2019ve been fucking dead for\u2026a while. What am I gonna do?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI rubbed my face, my eyes. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe shook his head. \u201cNo. You don\u2019t need to know. It was\u2026it was ugly, okay? Getting into shit I wasn\u2019t supposed to and that fuckin\u2019 train is gonna come for me, and I ain\u2019t got the balls to go through with it, man. You gotta hide me!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou need to calm down, it can\u2019t be that bad. You\u2019re getting what everyone here wants.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo one wants what I\u2019ve gotten! I\u2019ve fucked up! I\u2019ve fucked up so bad!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFrom afar, the screeching of the train sounded. Trent turned to the call, tears spilling over his cheeks. \u201cYou need to hide me!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat am I supposed to do? Stash you behind a pillar? Dig a hole in tile?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWe gotta do something! I\u2019m not ready. I\u2019m not ready to\u2026to\u2026end!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe haze surged like fire, and orange invaded the white. People of the haze stopped and took notice, eventually turning to us, then Trent. He took in his appearance, noticing all color had returned.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPlease,\u201d he said, putting hands on my shoulders. \u201cHelp?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe train pulled in, hissing to a stop, and the doors opened. Red light burned the haze away, creating a line through the white, and people backed away from the traveling path maker. It led right to us, to him. Yellow motes of dust glittered within the red beam.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m gonna get tortured! Ripped apart! I won\u2019t get to keep my body! You want that for me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy mind raced with things to say, with what I could do, yet all I said was, \u201cI don\u2019t know what to do!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe stared at me with disbelief on his face.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA tall figure stepped out of the train. At first, I believed it to be a man, but no man was this tall, this thin, or this obstructed. Within the white, it wasn\u2019t anything but a dark figure, yet it traversed along the red path, and from the white came the figure; a tall gray being with arms and legs as long and thin as tree branches and a neck like a llama\u2019s. Its head was shaped like a guitar pick, the top end wide and the mouth area tiny. Massive triangular eyes looked down at me, and then Trent. Its mouth was no bigger than a coin slot in a game machine. It had no nose.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThis being reached out its long four fingered hand to Trent and, shaking, he faced the entity. It stared him down with its immense black eyes, his reflection shown in the organs\u2019 wet shimmer.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHe raised his hands, sniffling, crying, and said, \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I didn\u2019t know\u2026it would\u2026create so much pain. Please don\u2019t punish me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe being did not move.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m just a kid! I\u2026I can make mistakes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA coldness took over me when I leaned forward. I watched my reflection move in the being\u2019s eyes. \u201cTrent, did you hurt someone?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cKilled someone,\u201d he corrected.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stared at him, moved over so I could be in front of him, then looked at the being.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt was staring at me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI backed away from Trent.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt returned its attention to the boy.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat do ya say, huh? Another round?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe haze did not move. The people did not move. There was no sound except for the occasional hiss of the train.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSlowly, it shook its head.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cFuck it!\u201d Trent yelled, and ran. The being roared, a sound that did not come from its tiny mouth, but from every pore of its body. Haze blasted away from the being like an explosion. Horns ripped through the being\u2019s back, claws extended from its finger tips, and the tiny mouth widened, opened, and the lower jaw jutted out, unleashing a row of ragged sharp teeth from of its lower jaw. Horns sprouted from the side of its head and wrapped around its massive under bite. Its eyes burned to life, and the being reached for Trent with its skinny arm and snatched him. Trent tried to kick free, then tried punching the hand holding him, but the being was twice the size it had been. It snarled at the boy. Trent looked at me and reached out.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHelp me!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI couldn\u2019t move.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe being walked to the train with its prize. It ducked and\u2014somehow\u2014slipped inside the train. Trent wept without control, but when the train doors shut, his cries ceased.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe train departed without a whisper.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI open my eyes and watch the wind play with the curtains.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nDaylight beams through the open window, the wind smelling of honeysuckle and thistle. Birds are chirping and crickets sing their verse when given the chance. Someone is singing, and it rolls me out of bed and gets me on my feet. I rub sleep from my face. It\u2019s a cool morning, unusual for what we\u2019d been having compared to previous summers.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI gaze out the window and she\u2019s in the garden by the tree. Though the sun is bright in the clear sky, its rays do not reach her as she plants under the shade. All the land is deep and rich green, with the only artificial sound the train about two miles out. I take a deep breath of the living world and throw on a shirt and robe.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe sun is warm but the wind is cool, and I tighten the robe around my body. Her hair is different, and while the length is as I remember, along with her curls, her once brown hair has turned bright silver, and it\u2019s been tied into a ponytail where the wind plays with the faded curls. She stops humming and turns to me, smiles, and holds out her hand.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI take it and sit down. Luvora\u2019s leaves rattle in the wind, and the woman takes time to finish her task and removes her garden gloves. When she looks at me, I see in her eyes the look of a woman who I\u2019ve known for a long time, and she smiles.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat brings you out here to our tree, mister?\u201d she says. Her voice still has a dainty quality to it, her lisp still present, and it makes her sound far younger.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI take her hand in mine. \u201cI just wanted to see you. Feels like you keep getting up earlier and earlier. I can\u2019t find you sometimes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019ll be here. If you can\u2019t find me, look out here, because this tree is the best tree.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI take her in my arms. Her smell is something I love and won\u2019t soon forget, one that comes from her hairline.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI never want to leave,\u201d I whisper. \u201cI want to be here with you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know where to look,\u201d she says. \u201cI\u2019ll wait for you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd it\u2019s here I say her name once more, a name I swore never to forget but can\u2019t recall. I close my eyes and try to remember, yet nothing comes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI miss you,\u201d she whispers.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI opened my eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman in maroon stood over me, eyeing me in a way someone might look at a stray cat. I sat up and leaned against the wall.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou were talking to that young man,\u201d she said, looking at me with her green eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYeah,\u201d I said, and ran a hand over my face. \u201cWhat\u2019s with people here? How come no one helps one another?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat young man went to Hell. You don\u2019t stand in the way of someone\u2019s judgement. Never.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe shook her head in a tight manner, as if to tell me what would happen was far too terrible to mention.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI saw movement over her shoulder and noticed the two old men walking towards us. The taller one, with the beard and withered face, approached with huge and attentive eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat\u2019s going on? I saw the show, but why is Miss Tie-Dye talking with you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman turned to the visitors, looked at the man with his long gray beard, then the one with the glasses. \u201cHe wants to know why no one tried to help that boy.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhoa,\u201d said the withered man, holding out his hands. \u201cI know you\u2019re new here, but you don\u2019t do that. Ever.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat happens? Did no one else feel for him?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe man with glasses shrugged. \u201cIt was his choice that put him there. We can\u2019t stand in the way of that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWithered man looked at the woman. \u201cNo one has spent more time here than you, Miss Maroon. Why don\u2019t you tell him?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe went back to shaking her head quickly. \u201cYou\u2026you won\u2019t ever leave.\u201d She rubbed her arms, folded them, and looked at the men. \u201cWhen was the last time the good train showed up?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSilence loomed amongst us. It was the withered man who said. \u201cIt\u2019s been a while.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe man with glasses nodded in agreement.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThere are two trains?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes,\u201d the woman said. \u201cBut it feels like the good one hasn\u2019t been here forever. Maybe it quit working?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI don\u2019t think it works that way,\u201d the man with glasses said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was about to ask her how you could tell the difference between the two when her eyes lost focus and she stared through me. Her shoulders straightened and she sat with her legs folded under her. I looked at the men behind her, who were confused by her noticeable change.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe touched me, a sensation I felt upon my skin\u2014cold. Her eyes took focus, but they shifted from green to blue, and when they looked at me, it was far too much like I woman in my dream.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDo you remember?\u201d she whispered. She was so close to me I could see all the lines in her lips. \u201cI\u2019m here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was leaning away from the woman as she leaned into me. \u201cWhere?\u201d I managed.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhere I\u2019d always be.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI gasped, broke free, and her eyes changed from blue to green and she shook her head. Confusion was all over her face, as if she had no idea how she had gotten here, how she was in the middle of a group of guys, and hurried to her feet and left.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe two men stood beside me in silence.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHas that ever happened?\u201d I said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe man with the beard shook his head. \u201cNo\u2026not once.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI thought a moment, watched her fade into the white. \u201cHas the train ever not come before?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOh yeah. Happens a lot.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy would that happen?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt could be for several reasons. You\u2019ve come at a time when those of color are few, but there was a time when many of those with color were here, and the train never picked them up. She was a part of that group.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat happens to them?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe old man shrugged. \u201cThe train doesn\u2019t come, but they don\u2019t stay here. They go back to reality, the ole land of the living. Not as a member, but as a guest without a pass to leave, if that makes sense. You get like her, and do what you\u2019ve been suggesting, you\u2019ll wander both realms.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHelping someone? I\u2019d be punished?\u201d I looked from one man to the other.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe man with glasses nodded.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019d become a ghost?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBoth in our old world and this one. She has to fight to remember who she is. When she remembers, she vanishes, when she can\u2019t\u2026she\u2019s here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI mulled in thought, and after studying the crowd of vacant stares, I said, \u201cWhat if someone did something, something important, and when everything was coming back, you realized there was one thing you needed to get done, but didn\u2019t.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBecause you wound up here?\u201d he said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nodded.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHope it didn\u2019t happen to me,\u201d the one with the beard said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nImages flashed; the night sky, the crescent moon, the stars, the tree. The woman\u2014my wife\u2014knelt before a dug-up hole and her hands clasped before her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m going to need you to promise me something,\u201d she whispers from behind her hands. I smell honeysuckle, feel the warm and wet air against my skin and realize I\u2019m under the tree with her. Her hair is silver like the dream, and she turns her lined but elegant face to me and smiles.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d I say.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIf you go before me, I want you to find me and tell me you haven\u2019t forgotten me, and that you\u2019ll wait for me in Heaven.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nod. \u201cI\u2019ll come back for you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cPromise?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes, I promise.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBack in the haze, the two men were staring at me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLet me ask you something,\u201d the man with the beard said.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDid you just get some kind of gusto image? Cause you lit up like a Christmas tree.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI looked at my outfit\u2014a suit\u2014and reveled in the blue radiating from the fabric.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI think so,\u201d I said, and stared into the white while in thought. Then a name rose in my mind, and it rushed forward and burst from me. \u201cGwendolyn.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe haze stopped. The men stared.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI need to be alone,\u201d I said, and left.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere had been a time when I was little, where I had gotten up early and seen the flatlands washed out like everything was here. Fog covered everything and sound had a weird way of not traveling, and even as a kid I was in awe of just how quiet it was. While everything was buried in white, I knew the world underneath had color, and it kept me grounded.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nWalking amongst the haze and knowing there was nothing beneath the surface, I tried to fish out the color within the world, searching for anyone who had the saturation like Trent had. Color glowed from my own body and outfit, but the only other bit of color I saw was the woman in the maroon dress, trying to use her phone with brows so tight a crease formed at the middle of her forehead.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe looked at me, running her colorless fingers over her forehead. I followed her hand and realized her hair was bright blonde, so bright I believed she must have colored her hair. She pushed her hand into her hair and approached me, and with all the color in her clothes, it was almost enough to think she was leaving soon as well, but the dead white complexion of her skin told me a different truth. She swayed her arms back and forth like she was walking, but there was no sound of her footsteps, no shift in her body as she moved\u2014she levitated to me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou look bright,\u201d she said. \u201cGot someone on your mind?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMy wife.\u201d The cold haze graced the back of my neck and I shivered. \u201cYou ever get tired of the cold?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer face twisted when I asked, and I knew by her confusion it was something she no longer felt.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou miss being alive?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNow she looked at me with her green eyes and said, \u201cAll the time. I try to reach out to my son so we might talk, remind him that I haven\u2019t abandoned him but\u2026\u201d She shook her head. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t pay attention.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou ever have the feeling you missed out on something, when at the time, you felt you couldn\u2019t have been anymore in the moment than you were?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe narrowed her eyes. \u201cYou mean wishing we could go back and do things differently?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI mean for every moment I was alive, was I really taking in everything to the best of my ability? Was I really appreciating the moment? The happiness? And sadness?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI don\u2019t know if the regular person does. If what I remember of the real world is right, we were pretty good about making ourselves hurry along. Not a lot of us are given the chance to take in the silence and breathe, most would think it stupid anyway.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cForty years together with my wife and all I can remember is her name and certain times we talked.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s when you were most there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stared.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThat\u2019s why you remember them. You have to focus on them while falling asleep; you can talk to her when the memories become reality.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019ll work?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAs long as she\u2019s listening.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI brushed past her, stopped, and turned. \u201cDo you want to leave here? I mean, do you really want to leave?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe woman in maroon looked at me closely, and color rose to her cheeks. \u201cI\u2026I can\u2019t leave my boy. I know he could hear me if he would just listen. It\u2019s so hard to remember everything.\u201d She paused with a finger bent over her upper lip. \u201cTalk to her, and remember what you need to say so you can leave this place!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMemory invaded me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe sits on the deck looking at the tree towering over the garden and the surrounding bushes. It casts deep and long shade over the backyard. The setting sun beams through thick leaves, changing their color from green to gold.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe alfalfa field has been hayed, and sit in giant rolls over the flatlands. From the deck, I see our neighbor\u2019s farmland, the cows grazing and wandering around. The distant train calls from afar. To our north, there\u2019s humming of a radio playing as another neighbor works in the garage. Robins run about the dried bull-grass.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo, why did you name it Luvora?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI tear free from my admiration of the land and focus on her. \u201cIt\u2019s a good name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s actually not, but what made you pick it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s a special name.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n I sigh, then say, \u201cBefore my mom died, she told me to close my eyes and focus on something that meant something to me, so\u2026I imagined a tree. She said to give it a name, and I picked Luvora. She told me as long as I held onto that creation, it would be the place all my dreams came from. And it would be the place she\u2019d visit me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cDid she?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOnly when I slept.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI snapped out of the memory. The woman in maroon was next to me, and she helped me to my feet. She gave a tiny smile, then walked away, fading into the white. I hurried to a corner and closed my eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI dream of the tree and Gwendolyn is there.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI approach, listening to my own footfalls in the grass. It\u2019s night. The stars are out but the moon is nowhere. Her eyes are closed, and in the summer night, the air is oppressively hot, dry, and pressing down on my back and shoulders, but it\u2019s a feeling I enjoy. Locusts buzz and from the distance frogs chirp.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI sit next to her, fold my legs and clasp my hands. She\u2019s much older than my memories allow to see. Lines traverse her face and mouth. But because she is asleep, that great youthfulness about her is still prevalent, even in the way she\u2019s slouching against the tree with a hand gently touching her cheek.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHi,\u201d I whisper, and wait. The orchestra of night becomes overbearing. Gwen stirs a moment, sits up, then her head lolls to the side as she sighs in comfort. \u201cBaby, I\u2019m here,\u201d I urge, and again she shifts, this time with her face towards me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLen?\u201d she says, and I\u2019m taken back by her voice. Old did she appear on the outside, but the essence within her is just as young as I remembered.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHi Gwen,\u201d I whisper and smile. \u201cI miss you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI miss you, too.\u201d She sighs. \u201cWhy did you leave me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe explanation, though I have no idea what that could be, is right on the tip of my tongue, but the simplicity of her gentle accusation throws me onto the ground and bolts me to it. How could I justify this? My absence?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d I say, and know the real answer is still on my mind, what happened to me, and if I wanted to, I could see what it was. In that moment of reckoning, I saw the swaying curtains, remembered the feeling of the cool air brushing through the thin cotton, and knew the pain in my chest that had kept me up all night was no longer something I could ignore, because it busted through to the forefront.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGwen\u2019s panicking screams fill my head and echo over the land. It makes Gwen furrow her brows, turn away and ball into a fetal position.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI\u2019m here, baby,\u201d I say, and she turns to me slightly. \u201cI haven\u2019t left, but I need to.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt\u2019s my next stop. But I\u2019m here to tell you I\u2019ll be there when it\u2019s your time. I haven\u2019t forgotten you, and I\u2019ll be waiting for you. I also wanted to tell you that I love you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe smiles\u2014a faint one, and faces me. Gwen takes a deep breath and lets it out, and for the first time in years, relaxation settles into her shoulders.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cGood night,\u201d she says.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI smile. \u201cGood night.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNight shifts to white. I look to the sky, observe the stars and then Luvora. It towers over me, sways in the light breeze. I put my hand on the trunk, and as the white takes over what\u2019s left of reality, warmth and vitality tickle my fingers.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI opened my eyes. I rubbed my chest, recognized the old familiar pain present for months, maybe years, then removed my hand and the phantom pain disappeared.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cLancaster,\u201d I said. \u201cMy name is Lancaster Cobb.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe train arrived, pulling in slowly and stopping with a hiss. It idled before the doors opened. Baby blue light spilled out and burned off the haze. From open doors stepped out the tall and lanky entity. When the being walked towards me, the people did not rush to move aside, they stared at the being with awe, and once it was standing in front of me, I noticed a navy-blue shade to its large, dark eyes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt bent and studied me. I observed my obscured reflection in its eyes. It held out its hand and the long fingers unraveled before me. I considered the offered hand, then looked up to the being.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cMay I ask a question?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe being kept its attention on me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWill you look after my wife? Gwendolyn? When she comes here, please let her come to me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe being turned its head to the side, like a child might when hearing something that doesn\u2019t make sense, but the being gave a slow and single nod.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI wrapped my hand around a pair of the being\u2019s fingers. I approached the train and as I drew closer, the world changed from white to blue, and the coolness of the realm melted away to an embracing warmth. I hesitated before stepping through the open door, feeling fear, then entered and blue light overtook me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIn that final embrace, I stood beneath Luvora with Gwen. I held her in my arms and swayed back and forth. I closed my eyes against the setting sun and smiled. Birds chirped. The sun was warm. Her smell was rich.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHeaven.\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak><br \/>\n<a name=\"rains\"><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 class=\"western\" style=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font face=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><font size=\"6\">Hosts for the Rains<\/font><\/font><\/h1>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy J.A. Becker<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThey came with the rains.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI had my suit on. Jane didn\u2019t.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe turquoise sky just frosted over with clouds as quick as a finger snap, and the rains fell.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nStupid. Stupid. Stupid. To let her take her suit off. But she was desperate. You get that way sometimes. You just want to feel real air against your skin, the sun warming your hair. These tin cans can feel like a tomb and you just have to get out of your shell or you\u2019ll go mad.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSo I let her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd now the rains are falling all around us, plinking off our suits with tinny clinks, and we just look at each other through our fishbowls.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere\u2019s an ocean between us, but not a word comes to our lips.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBy now, they\u2019ve wriggled in through her pores, burrowed straight down through her flesh and into a vein, caught a ride on some hemoglobin up into the brain, and are feasting.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI watch her pupils swell till her eyes become black holes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd then I run.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI\u2019ve this mad notion that I can reverse this. That it\u2019s not too late. That I can somehow use the ship\u2019s equipment to suck the squiggling tadpoles out of her grey matter and there won\u2019t be just swiss cheese left.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI pound across the cracked earth in my titanium suit, shouting into the COM to open the ship\u2019s door. Shouting for help.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI mount a red dune with just a couple of strides. I cross a desert with a bound. When I mount the final hill, I see the ship is gone. Just its square prints are left in the red earth.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThey\u2019ve left us.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nLeft me to die at the hands of my deranged wife.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFrom what I know, the adult parasites burrow in and live symbiotically with the host; whilst it\u2019s the juveniles that live in the clouds who are hell-bent on life and death. They fall down with the rains, land on a host, and send it on a rampage, killing everything it can get its hands on. Then the bodies in its murderous wake become more hosts for the rains. And on and on the cycle of life goes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut the adults are solitary creatures. They\u2019re known to consume any competition in the host. They even heal a host\u2019s body, give it life, vitality, which is why the Imperium pays us top dollar to collect them.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIf I could just&#8230;\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce. Can you hear me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy heart stops.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce, my sweet, sweet love. Where are you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy startled gasp frosts the front of my fishbowl.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt\u2019s her voice coming through the COM, her exact voice. But she can\u2019t be. She\u2019s infected. They\u2019ve eaten away her brains. She shouldn\u2019t be able to even speak.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce. Where are you, my sweet love? Talk to me baby. Tell me where you are?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI spend the day hiding in a crevice, crying my eyes out and listening to her call for me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat moment where I tell her it\u2019s OK, that I\u2019ll watch the skies while she sunbathes in her underwear, plays again and again in my mind.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I see myself run, like a coward. I throw it all away and just run because I was scared.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThat\u2019s the most unbearable bit of it all. In a split second, I abandon her after twenty years of marriage.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce. I\u2019m scared. Tell me where you are? I need you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA terrible cry surges up my throat. I bite down on my lips to stop it from spilling out. Tears make the rocky, desert landscape a wavering, liquid sea.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI was on a collecting crew one time where some idiot forgot to keep his gloves on. He went mad. He became a senseless killing machine. Took a shovel and smashed open the foreman\u2019s fishbowl, then crushed his windpipe with his bare hands. Then he lifted a girl up by her legs and dashed her like a doll against a rock.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut Jane seems sane. It hasn\u2019t affected her like it\u2019s done to others. Perhaps what I\u2019ve read isn\u2019t completely true?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA pebble plinks off my fishbowl and I look up into the chink of day.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe\u2019s high above, bent over the crevice and looking down at me. Her long brown hair has fallen forward and pooled in her fishbowl, her face just a furry mass.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce! There you are!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd then she heaves down a fist-sized rock at me and I\u2019ve no time to react.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt hits my fishbowl square with a resounding gong that nearly splits my head it two. The world seems to separate and then come back together.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCracks spread across my fishbowl, and there is a soft hiss as the outside pressure equalizes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI can taste the planet\u2019s air now, it\u2019s arid and sweet.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I run.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThis planet\u2019s rock formations are born from some violent upheaval, thrust into the sky at sharp angles like dragon\u2019s teeth.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt\u2019s hard to scramble across this with my wife just a rock\u2019s throw behind me, chasing me and whispering poison in my ears.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI think you were relieved when we lost the baby. That\u2019s why you never said anything about it. You were relieved, weren\u2019t you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI\u2019ve seen the juveniles under a microscope, they\u2019re like tadpoles with teeth; just a mindless, black squirming mass.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHow can they do this?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce, did you ever really love me? Truly? Is that why you didn\u2019t want the baby? You didn\u2019t love me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt\u2019s working, these barbs. They\u2019re slowing me down, making me think because there\u2019s truths in all of them.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI get up a shale-faced ridge, nearly slip back down into her open arms. I turn around and see she\u2019s struggling to get up too, can\u2019t get a purchase and keeps sliding back down. She stops and looks up at me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer eyes are all black now, no whites, just empty black pools.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce. Come down. I just want to talk.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI nearly do. She is my wife after all, and I love her so.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes. Come down Bruce. You owe this to me. For once in your life, own up to something.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAll her talk has gnawed its way through my head and into my heart. She\u2019s got to me. She deserved so much and all she got was me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cJust step forward and I can catch you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut I can\u2019t move. My selfish body won\u2019t let me do it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cFor Annette you can step forward! Can\u2019t you Bruce!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nOur neighbor Annette, tight tops and short shorts; and Jane was always away on long, long trips.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nTruly, I\u2019m a bastard.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou owe me everything Bruce! Everything! Step forward!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I run.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI\u2019ve looped back to the fissure where we were collecting.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEventually, the parasites mature and force their hosts to walk to these cracks, then they\u2019ll squirm their six-inch bodies out of the closest orifice and climb down into the cleft\u2019s warm depths.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt\u2019s kind of like fishing. You drop in a couple of pellets and the fissure fills up with white foam. Any parasites are pushed up to the surface, where you scoop em up and sell them for a small fortune.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt\u2019s easy, but dangerous work.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I was a fool to take her with me. She should be up there, studying the stars where she belongs; not down here in the muck of this planet with me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThe astrophysicist marries a commoner, eh Bruce? That\u2019s what my dad said, didn\u2019t he?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe crack is about a foot wide and ten feet long. I drop in a couple of pellets.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHow can she be so sane, yet insane?\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou know, I\u2019ve been thinking about us,\u201d she says. \u201cAnd it\u2019s true what they say. The alphas do marry the deltas. Do you know what I mean? When a person is one extreme, say they are this brilliant, beautiful woman who achieves and achieves. Well, they don\u2019t marry that same kind of man. No. That would be too extreme, that would be too much competition for them, that would be an unbalanced relationship. So do you know what they do? Can you guess?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI don\u2019t know what her game is now, but it\u2019s crushing me from the inside out. I let out a ragged, defeated breath. My eyes sting with tears that I cannot wipe away. I wish to hell I could shut this COM off.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cWhy they marry you, of course. The parasite skimmer. And it\u2019s not some unconscious instinct driving one to do this. It\u2019s a calculated, conscious decision that I weighed out in my brilliant head.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe first of the white foam begins to bubble out and I get a glass bottle ready.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce, do you know what I\u2019m saying? Can you understand me, or am I speaking too quickly for you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cI understand.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cAhh! Good. He speaks. We can converse now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe white foam rises out of the crack like a baked cake and there\u2019s nothing. It\u2019s empty. I drop another pellet into small fissure to my left.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cSo I\u2019m saying that all those awful things you think about yourself, how you are a nobody, how you don\u2019t deserve somebody like me&#8230;well, they are all true. I was lying when I said you were special. That you hadn\u2019t found your calling yet. That when it comes you will know it and you will run with it and you will be amazing. It was all lies.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI can\u2019t take it anymore and I cry out. \u201cWhy are you telling me this?! Why are you hurting me like this?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBecause you are nothing and now I\u2019m free to say it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThis isn\u2019t you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOf course it\u2019s me, Bruce. It\u2019s me through and through. Not all of these juveniles eat your mind away. Some of them are smart. Some of them just want to live in symbiosis like the adults that you pimp out.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cThis can\u2019t be true. I\u2019ve never heard of that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is. You and your fellow skimmers never bothered to investigate because, for one, you\u2019re not intelligent enough to do so and, two, all you care about is money so you never bothered to dig into it. Yet, here I am. Speaking to you clearly and concisely, so try to tell me I\u2019m wrong.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo! It\u2019s not possible!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cIt is, Bruce. They wriggle in and just nibble away at the front matter of your brain, feels like seltzer bubbling beneath your forehead. And your reward for feeding them is clarity of mind and unimaginable strength. I could break you over my knee if I caught you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nFoam begins to bubble out of the crack and I ready the bottle.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThis isn\u2019t her. There\u2019s just no way. They\u2019ve done something to her. She is my wife, my meek, wonderful wife who dotes on my every word. She gave up her rich life and her massive inheritance to be with me. This angry, spiteful creature isn\u2019t her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce, why don\u2019t you tell me where you are?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cNo!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce, are you not listening to me? Are you too stupid to hear me? I\u2019m trying to help you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere, pushed to the surface on a cake of white foam is an adult. A black, six-inch slug that writhes in frustration.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cObviously, I\u2019m not being clear enough. What I\u2019m trying to tell you is that you have always been nothing and I have always been something. And now that they\u2019re with me, I am even more than I was. Do you understand? They\u2019ve elevated me even higher, Bruce, and I want you to come with me. I can\u2019t promise that you\u2019ll be up to where I am, but you will be better than that thing you are.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nGod, her words have a pull to them. I know she\u2019s full of it, I know that\u2019s not my wife talking, but deep down I am tempted. Those are my wife\u2019s memories they\u2019re drawing from and they know exactly what to say. Know exactly which of my weaknesses to prey upon.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe was always so much better than me, at everything. I was just this pale creature in her shadow. I do want to be more than I am, desperately, and she knows this. Knows how I\u2019ve struggled with this.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI uncork the glass stopper and easily scoop him up in the bottle. They\u2019re pretty harmless like this. I could pop him like a grape between my forefingers.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cOf course! I know where you are. Your self-importance has given you a false sense of noblesse oblige and you\u2019re back at the cracks, trying to skim your troubles away.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nStartled, I look up and see her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe planet\u2019s eternal wind has raked up the sand of the red desert into long serpentine ridges and she is on top of one, fast approaching. In the bright sun, she shimmers in her suit like a shooting star.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I run.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI run maybe a full mile and then collapse beneath a boulder. The fracture in my fishbowl is letting my moisture escape, so my throat is bone dry, my lips are cracked and parched.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSleep! My body lusts for it. I try to stave it off, but I find my eyes drooping. Then against everything, I drop off.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce!\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI awake with a start. The sky is a black mass of clouds, threatening rain. Night has fallen. My skin prickles from the frost that\u2019s crept through the fissures in my fishbowl. The suit\u2019s heaters can\u2019t keep up.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI stand. I\u2019ve been asleep for too long and she could be right on top of me. My heart thuds in my chest and my limbs tremble as I look around for her. But all I see is a ruined landscape of red rocks.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBruce, obviously I\u2019m not insane. I\u2019m quite coherent. Tell me where you are so we can talk.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYou dropped a rock on my head.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cYes, but you needed it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cHow\u2019s that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cBecause everything you do is done so timidly. You have to be kicked over the edge so you\u2019ll fly. Bruce, you need these things to be better than you are, to be stronger than you are.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere is no other way. I\u2019m going to have to fight her. Fight my wife who is full of adrenaline and with her pain receptors shut off.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI shudder at the thought of it.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy plan is a fool\u2019s plan. I somehow have to break her fishbowl open and stuff this parasite up her nose. That\u2019s all I\u2019ve got though. That\u2019s all the planning I\u2019ve done.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd then there is this other half of me that thinks she\u2019s right. She is never wrong about anything, ever. She is the brains and backbone of our relationship. She\u2019s right, I do need pushes to get me going&#8211;and more than once she\u2019s done that and I\u2019ve been grateful. I do need to be better than I am. Perhaps those things in my head would give me the clarity I need, make me stronger in body and mind.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nBut it isn\u2019t completely lost on me how much she\u2019s manipulating me. Like a master puppeteer, she\u2019s pulling the right threads to make feel and think this way.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe crack of lightning in the dark clouds draws my attention. A ship suddenly streaks across the skies overhead. The roar of its engines rumbles like thunder.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnother skimming crew, landing to try their luck.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere\u2019s no way she hasn\u2019t seen that.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n\u201cJane, I\u2019m ready. I\u2019ve made up my mind. You\u2019re right. I need this. Where are you? I\u2019m too scared to take my helmet off by myself.\u201d\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nSilence.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNot a word.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nMy heart races and my mind somersaults at the meaning of this. It was all a trick. Now that they\u2019re here, I\u2019m secondary. It really wasn\u2019t about me becoming more than I am. All that was bullshit.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe really has lost her mind. They really are in control.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I run.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe ship is not too far off. I figure it\u2019s about a mile away. I can see it glowing like a gem on the horizon.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe\u2019s likely making her way to it. Does she want to kill them and make her way across the galaxy? Or make more hosts for the rains? I have no idea what those tadpoles are thinking.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd then I see her. There\u2019s LED lights ringing the base of her helmet. Her dark form is scrambling up a rock face not too far off.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI still want to save her, despite everything.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I run after her.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nShe\u2019s making hellishly good time though. She\u2019s up and over the cliff and out of sight in seconds.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI leap down off a rock and land with heavy booted feet. Pins and needles shoot up my spine. I don\u2019t stop for a second and I pump my legs, running. With the crack in my fishbowl, the air filtration can\u2019t keep up with my heavy breathing and it quickly frosts over with my panicked breaths. I pull it off and throw it to the ground.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI run on for what seems forever, losing sight of her and then gaining it and then losing it again.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nEventually, I have to stop to catch my breath and throw up. I\u2019m sweating so badly, I feel like I\u2019m swimming in this suit. It\u2019s hot and wet and I can\u2019t run in it any longer. I pull a latch and it splits in two and I step out as it falls to the ground. I grab the bottle tightly in my wet, sweaty fist.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nAnd I run.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<hr>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe ship is at the base of a hill. It\u2019s a big white glowing egg. Its front door is open and rampway is extended. Warm lights spill out of the entranceway and illuminate a square patch of earth in the front of the ship.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI scramble down the hill, watching the surrounding landscape for movement. But I don\u2019t see any.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nNow that I\u2019ve slowed, the night chill sets in. The cool air prickles my sweaty flesh and a shiver runs up my spine. Suddenly, I\u2019m very conscious of how exposed I am. I\u2019ve got on white boxers and just a t-shirt.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI sneak up to the ship, keeping to the shadows and listening for any sounds coming from within.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nJudging my moment, I slink out from behind a rock and quickly make my way up to the ship. Just as my foot touches the patch of light cast upon the ground, a dark figure fills the entranceway.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI gasp in surprise and my heart squelches in my chest, but I\u2019m too startled to move.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe figure is in a suit and they have their back to me. Whoever it is, they\u2019re bent over and dragging something large.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nI can\u2019t help but let out a cry as I see that what they\u2019re dragging is a body. It\u2019s a man and his head is crushed like a smashed cantaloupe.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nIt\u2019s Jane, I realize. She\u2019s killed the crew and is dragging them out one by one. Hosts for the rains.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nHer back is to me. She drags the person down the ramp, leaving a long bloody trail behind.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere\u2019s a big rock at my feet. I put the bottle down and pick it up with two hands. I raise it high above my head, and I wait.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nA shock of thunder splits the skies, but I stand as still as a tree.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nCloser she comes.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThere\u2019s a moment there where I waver. This could kill her. Or worse, it doesn\u2019t kill her and she kills me. Or all this has been true and I am ruining the one chance I have to be better than I am and be on her level. Or I\u2019m taking all this away and dropping her right back down beneath me.\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\" lang=\"zxx\">\nThe raindrops begin to fall and I bring the rock down.<br \/>\n<\/P><br \/>\n<mbp:pagebreak><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\">Published by Light Spring LLC <\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\">Fort Worth, Texas<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font size=\"5\"><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font size=\"5\">\u00a9 Copyright 2018, All Rights Reserved<\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\" align=\"CENTER\">\n<font color=\"#000080\"><span lang=\"zxx\"><u><\/u><\/span><\/font><\/p>\n<p><center><font color=\"#000080\"><u><a href=\"http:\/\/www.thecoloredlens.com\/\"><font size=\"5\">www.TheColoredLens.com<\/font><\/a><\/u><\/font><\/center><\/p>\n<p class=\"western\" style=\"margin-bottom: 0in\" lang=\"zxx\">\n<\/p>\n<hr>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Colored Lens Speculative Fiction Magazine Summer 2018 \u2013 Issue #28 Featuring works by Marc Humphrey, Jamie Lackey, Dawn Vogel, Burris D. Nichols, K.G. Delmare, Jim Meeks-Johnson, G. Allen Wilbanks, C.J. Carter Stephenson, Andrea Tang, Jacob Adams, and J.A. Becker. Edited by Dawn Lloyd and Daniel Scott Henry Fields, Associate Editor Published by Light Spring &hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":29,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-136299","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/136299","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/29"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=136299"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/136299\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":136300,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/136299\/revisions\/136300"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=136299"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}