Inbetween Days

a gen-x alternities serial

'chess'

a-t d.m. lasher

chapter VII: "The Kiss"

Omniday Personal Journal
[toggle]
UserName?
[Dominic]
Password?
[Bogomil]
Acknowledged…
Accessing Omniday Personal Journal Protocols...
Running...

Journal Entry Dated: 991101

"There was no time. None. Every hour, every second

that we spent dicking around was one less hour Savij

might have of life. We, as yet, had no idea why she'd

been kidnapped nor why she'd yet been able to escape.

Considering the power at her disposal...

Something smelled rotten about this whole scenario.

And it wasn't just my impression, either. Every time I

looked over at Moshe, he gave me that look. He knew

too.

Something was very, very wrong about all of this.

I had a feeling it was going to bite us on the ass before

we figured it out, too."

Saving 991101 to the hard drive...
Encryption?
[MIT PGP v2.7.4]
Saved.
[Exit Application]

Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning

1407 Greymalkin Lane

Salem Centre, New York

991101

03:35 hours…

"oh kiss me, kiss me, kiss me

your tongue is like poison

so swollen it fills up my mouth

love me, love me, love me

you nail me to the floor

and push my guts all inside out

get it out, get it out,

get your fucking voice out of my head!

i never wanted this

i never wanted any of this

i wish you were dead

i wish you were dead."

the cure, "the kiss"

Alongside Dyvil's Cove,

Near Breakstone Lake...

I've known Trajan for almost a decade now. During those years of self-imposed exile in Israel, I kept an eye on events in America through him and others of his kind. A small network, if you will. People of all walks of life and capabilities...but always of the type that I needed. My eyes an ears into a nation that was slowly slipping into blackened senility.

Trajan works for one of Washington's shadowy intelligence agencies, one named Jericho. It appears on no budgetary line-item. No story has ever been written about it. Indeed, I'd daresay less than a hundred people outside of her immediate employees knew of her existence. Jericho is a black hole. Nothing escapes her watch.

And, more importantly to those invisible men who ran it, no one watched her.

The very thought of such implicit power was enough to send shivers down my spine. Total deniability. Total secrecy. A perfect organisation with a dark mandate.

It was for this reason that I took Trajan into my network. His role could become invaluable...should the worst happen.

I am a practical man. I know. The worst will always happen.

"Sonovabitch," the South Carolinian swore, skipping a flattened rock across the waves. "Lissin', this ain't easy. Mah cover's already close t' being blown an' God knows if this evah gets out Ah'll sure as the sun risin' nevah be seen again, heah?"

I nodded. He knew he needn't tell me that. But the fact that the words passed between us told me something was very amiss. I'd never seen him in such a state. I placed my arms behind my back and held my ground, forcing him to stop walking ahead. "Tell me," I said.

He sighed. "They've got ya bugged half-way t' Tuesday, Magnus. You know that, though. But what you don't know is just how much they've got on th' whole school. Hell, Ah didn't even know until Ah was handed this job."

I frowned. "One thing at a time, Trajan. One thing at a time. First: if this meeting is so dangerous, why risk it?"

He turned on his heels. "Something's happened, Mags. Somethin' up top," he pointed at the sky metaphorically. "Th' feds're gonna move in an' shut th' Institute down."

A chill raced up my spine.

"Wait," he said, holding up a palm. "There's more. Let me tell you what Ah found out, then you c'n ask away, 'kay?"

I nodded numbly.

"Th' school's been under surveillance f'r 'bout twenty years now, Mags. First under th' FBI's counterintelligence programmes an' now, since 'round Eighty-Two or so, under Jericho. At first it was simply t' keep tabs on what might've been considered an unknown quantity, not necessarily a threat. When Jericho took ovah, though, things changed. Economic analysts were brought in, tax records and property assayers were hired. An' lawyers. Good God Almighty. I'd haveta' say 'bout a third of Jericho's law staff works on th' Institute alone."

Trajan ground his jaw. "Ah knew none of this pick-up in surveillance activities, at least at first. Then, a few days ago, Ah was assigned t' lead an unusual surveillance sweep...based on information surreptitiously collected on an Arthasastra illicit target. Deep silent running-type stuff."

My brows drew together naturally. "Arthasastra--Srivijayan military intelligence?"

He nodded. "Th' same. They were plannin' a kidnappin', t' retrieve a distant member of th' Srivijayan Imperial Household."

I felt my jaw drop. "Good God...Savijinia!" Before he even had a chance to respond, I pulled him forward, twisting the Earth's magnetic field to my designs. "You...BASTARD! Do you have any idea what you've DONE?! How COULD you?!"

Shaken, Trajan shook his head. "It...it was just 'nuther job, Magnus--"

"'JUST ANOTHER JOB'?!" I roared, squeezing his arms with all my might as he slid into my direct, physical grip. "She's not some kind of terrorist! Nor is she involved in any kind of foreign plot--!"

"LISTEN T' ME!!!!" he shouted. "Yuir barkin' up th' wrong tree if'n you think Ah'd jus' let that li'l lady get hijacked f'r no damned good reason!! Now let me th' hell down so's Ah can finish tellin' you why Ah'm here, now, and what Ah've done!"

My eyes burned into his and I envisioned I was drilling past his retinas and into his mind. Not for the first time, I wished I could read thoughts with the ease displayed by Charles or Emma. Trajan, however, is a decidedly strong psi, perhaps on the late Ms. Braddock's level. My telepathic probes would run into the tallest of brick walls, even if he allowed me to touch him bare-skinned. And he wasn't that foolish.

I dropped him unceremoniously.

"Ya big, fuckin' GALOOT!" he bellowed. "What kinda monster d'ya think Ah am?!"

I sneered. "One who hunts his own kind. A quisling."

He opened his mouth to respond but shut it just as quickly. "Ah don't--and that girl doesn't--have time f'r this bullshit. If'n you wanna debate th' wisdom of lettin' me work with Jericho--a job you set up f'r me if'n you c'n remember that far back--fine. We'll do that later. Right now, there's this," he hissed, pulling out a small, palm-sized device, one which reminded me of those quaint PCS toys that used to be en vogue a few years back.

Still reeling and barely holding my anger in check, I responded coolly: "What, pray tell, is that?"

"Somethin' of a trackin' device," the South Carolinian said. "Every known mutant on th' planet, as you readily know, has a unique signature. Your SALVATION programme ain't too bad at trackin' 'em...but this heah puppy's a helluva lot better. It's based on MASINT--Measurement and Signatures Intelligence--somethin' we've been doin' f'r ages now, but which gained even greater use when Jericho scientists were able t' identify the sigma field fluctuations unique t' every mutant."

My heart began to hammer in my chest. "Does this...does this item...has it...?"

"Found th' girl?" he completed for me. "Damn skippy it has, though it was a hard goin'. Those friggin' Srivijayans have got th' shielding biz down pat. Th' girl's sig, though, is quite strong. Ah don't personally think they knew how strong she was."

"No," I shook my head. "No, just didn't take into account how much she'd learned to use her powers since she'd been here. Their earlier measurements were probably based on potential limits, and they built their defenses accordingly. She's grown a lot since then."

Trajan grunted. "Good f'r her. But this," he held up the device. "This is th' ticket." I reached for it but he snatched it back. "Hold on a sec...that's not all."

I blinked. What more could there possibly...?

"How much more?" I asked, almost sighing.

"Lots," he admitted. "A whole sea-change is comin', Mags. Th' guv'ment's lookin' f'r a reason t' shut you down."

I slit my eyes. "You said that before. Are you certain of this? How do you know? You, yourself, said that we've been under surveillance for ages now. Why such a drastic--to say nothing of draconian--move right now?"

He worked his jaw. "You got a minute?"

I glanced down at the device he still held in his palm. My thoughts strayed to Emma and Dominic... "Not long," I said. "There are others already attempting to rescue Savijinia. I think they need this information."

He bit his lower lip. Time seemed to stop all around us. Finally: "Don' worry 'bout it," he shook his head. "One thing at a time. First, th' girl. Then we'll talk about what comes next."

I eyed him warily.

"First you think Ah'm a heartless bastard f'r not tellin' ya 'bout th' kidnappin' and now ya all chewed up 'bout mah motives in not tellin' ya what else Jericho's got planned?!" Trajan said, exasperated. "Get y'r head outcha' ass Mags an' let's get this lady outta those sumbitches' hands!"

Without a word I rose into the air, silently riding the magnetic lines of force back towards the Institute. With but a gesture, Trajan's hand-held tracker snapped out of his hand and into mine. In an instant, I was out of his visual range. Far below, as the low-lying clouds obscured my view, I could hear him begin to swear at my 'treachery'. I smiled.

Let him walk back.

The Non,

14 miles SSW of Charleston, West Virginia

03:56 hours...

I scrolled through the transcription of Trajan's belated little plea with his mentor, tagging the areas I felt relevant for further review...things I'd like Richmond to take a look at when he strolled into work in a few hours. Almost without thinking about it I reached for a cigarette, my mind lightyears away from my actions.

A humourless chuckle escaped from between my lips. You fooled us all, my boy. The Judas Division, your former partners, Richmond...even, alas, myself. Bravo. I tip my hat to you. I do believe that's only the fifth time Jericho's ever been infiltrated. And all this time I thought the Judas Division's peculiar brand of...counterintelligence...was almost flawless. I'll have to make a note to wring Division Chief Ramsey's neck. Douglas is usually of a much more thorough mentality. The lad must be slipping...

But you... Poor, poor Trajan. Too late for you. Now it doesn't make a damned bit of difference how valuable Richmond or, secretly, I think you are. All of those carefully lain plans to secure your loyalty. Gone, I snapped. Just like that.

There was no need for this little charade anymore. Our need for him is finished.

"Computer," I said aloud.

[WORKING...]

"Bring up 'Rhys-Salisbury, Trajan E.V.O.'"

The whole of Trajan's professional and personal life flowed upwards across my field of vision. His medical and birth records, IRS and Social Security Administration entries, military service records, bank and credit union account information...and much, much more. A totality of life. The fatal weakness in an age where the computer has replaced the bureaucrat and a byte the piece of paper.

"Wipe."

[AUTHORISATION?]

"Lethe Zero-Zero-Zero-One."

[WORKING...]

And you, my friend, are finished. Gone. You have never been. Erased from history.

[WORKING FILE HAS BEEN DELETED FROM MATRIX.]

Some fates are worse than outright death, Trajan. Try living on no salary, with a driver's license that corresponds to a man who does not exist, and a Social Security Number--that frequently overlooked necessity of life in America--that corresponds to no one.

Finis, I thought to myself, blowing a cloud of smoke through the holographic life of a man who did not exist.

I waved my hand. The words disappeared, dumping the room, once more, into darkness. Only the red cherry of my cigarette served to illume.

And in the darkness, I smiled.

I wonder what Richmond will do? Not a logical query, I know, but still... He amuses me, inasmuch as I am capable of amusement. All the lies and half-truths I've fed to him over the years. All leading up to this. Here. Now. He suspects nothing. Perhaps, for his own peace of mind, that is good for him. This burden is for my shoulders, alone. Not his.

And now for part two, I thought, lifting the telephone receiver to my ear. Quickly I stabbed a number known only to myself and one other. A private line, if you will, one which linked to a certain State's advocate's unlisted home phone. I glanced at my watch. If I know Lenny, he'll be just awakening by now...

Brrrrrrrrrrring!

Brrrrrrrrrrring!

Brrrrr--"Hello?"

Leonard, of course, finding his CallerID not functioning, would have half a dozen people in mind when picking up his line. Best not keep him guess. "It's me, Lenny."

Silence.

"Jesus, you scared the shit outta me!"

I smiled. Always the paranoid. Of course, living in New York City would do that to you, considering the recent years' precipitous climb in violence. "I think it's time to close this little house of cards in Westchester, Leonard. Plans have changed and so's the climate. I'm being pushed from higher up to do something besides waste taxpayers' funds on surveilling Xavier's Institute. Last nite, I got a call from the Attorney General's office. She's apparently on the jittery side, seeing how multiple jurisdictions collide here, and wants to wrap this up as soon as possible. When can you move on Operation Crystal Palace?"

The Assistant District Attorney for New York City nearly sputtered yesterday's supper trying to answer. "Y-you've gotta be kiddin' me, right? Crystal Palace? Director, we're not even close--"

"Yes you are," I interrupted. "Closer than you think. Don't worry. We've got the surveillance. Enough for a prima facie case, at least. It's your job to make it stick, though."

He swallowed audibly. "Director...do you realise just how tense the situation is right now? We still haven't called down from the riots and with Ellis Island still making headlines..."

I nodded to myself, though he couldn't see it. I despised vid-phones. "Of course I understand, Len...but my hands are shackled on this one," I lied. One more lie in a sea of deceit. "You know the Attorney General. This Parkinson's Disease and all that... I think it's getting to her, actually."

"Christ," Leonard swore. "Okay, okay. But you know this isn't in our jurisdiction, right? New York can't just jump in on Westchester's beef and hog it. The county's gonna wanna be in on the kill and we've got a helluva lot of explainin' t' do to their DA."

A dry tongue ran across my lips. "I understand, Leonard. You needn't worry. We provided the surveillance so it's not a jurisdictional beef. I'll lean on the Justice Department and see what we can scurry up. Probably joint prosecution."

"Joint? Oi! In all my years practicing law I've seen only four of those cases, Director. You're driving for this pretty hard, ain't ya?"

"Just make an appointment with the DA at the 9th NYS Judicial District and let him--"

"--it's a 'her', Director--"

"--her then," I said tersely. The gnat. "Let her in on this in as much as the involvement of the federal government. No names, no agencies, just the federal involvement. I guarantee, her interest will be piqued."

I could almost see Leonard shake his head in disbelief. "No shit, Director. No shit."

Inside the Institute

04:01 hours...

Emma, I 'said', mustering all of my might in fervent hope that my meager telepathic summons might be heard. In my hand, I toyed with the GUI, trying to narrow the 'ellipse' which gave the approximate area where Savijinia's signature was being detected from. Where in God's name are they collecting this kind of data from? And in real-time, no less?!

Yes, Magnus, came the reply, almost immediately. The sensation was not unlike speaking to someone who was right behind you, their voice merely a step away from your ears. Is there a problem?

An unexpected development, I admitted, cursing the tracking unit as I appeared to reach the limit of its accuracy. I have come upon an area which I think you should search.

Accuracy?

Within...within three kilometers, I 'said'. On the outskirts of Medan, Srivijaya.

Pause.

Are you...certain of the veracity of this information? We haven't interrogated our man yet...

I considered what she was implying. She, too, wondered about the morality of stripping a man's personality away, even if it did lead directly to the reclaiming of one of our own. This, however, wasn't a certainty. There was a decidedly good chance that the prisoner didn't know where Savijinia would eventually end up at. In fact, were I in charge of the operation, that is precisely how I would've run it. No one, ultimately, would have known where they were taking their charge...save myself and a select cadre needed to keep her under control. Yes. Yes I am certain, within the range variable. I trust my source.

May I ask the identity of the source?

I slit my eyes. No...no you may not. Just know that I view the source as unimpeachable. Will that suffice?

Let's hope so, she said, a bit of wariness flowing across the aether and into the recesses of my mind. But with all due respect, I--to say nothing of young Dominic--want to 'get the show on the road', if you will. The coordinates, please?

Three kilometer radius... There was enough to be found inside that amount of space to keep a man occupied for hours in New York City...and that's to say nothing of Srivijaya, where swift urbanisation following World War II led to compacted and overcrowded city blocks that New Yorkers would find claustrophobic.

The prisoner, in spite of all my counterfactuals, might yet know the intended destination...

...or, he might not.

What kind of choice is this? A man's mind or a woman's life?

Unbidden--and unwelcome--a fleeting vision of Charles flew through my head. Damn! This isn't the time to slip back, Magnus. Not now. Not after you've worked so hard to achieve what you've accomplished. Do the right thing. What you feel is right now...not yesterday or yesteryear...or tomorrow, for that matter.

I glanced at the graphical interface, watching the dull flash of the ellipse.

Prepare for transmission, I 'said'. And pray God that we--that I--am making the right decision...

There was no response from the other end.

My troubles, it seems, were my own.

Arthasastra HQ,

Medan,

The Srivijayan Empire

17:23 hours (local time)...

I wiped the pooling sweat from the bottom of my chin, glancing over at Emma. She looked, if at all possible, in worse shape than I did. Haroun and Moshe, used to warmer environs, didn't seem to notice the torpidity surrounding them. Illyana, for what it was worth, didn't even sweat.

Winter in the tropics.

Good God, I'd hate to see the summer...

The complex before us was enormous...and deceptive. To the uninitiated, it looked like just another Hindu temple, one perhaps a tad large but not large enough to garner undue suspicion. Almost pyramidal in its creation, it rose into the sky in tiered levels, surrounded on all six sides by a bas relief of various scenes from Hindu belief. I had no idea to whom this 'temple' was supposed to've been dedicated to and not for the first time today I wish I'd had a chance to talk to Savij a bit longer on her homeland and its customs.

I drew my hand across my forehead. Jesus... "Are we sh-sh-sure she's in there?" I whispered, tipping my head towards the complex.

Emma cocked a brow. "With the amount of psi-screens and thoughts patterns very much unlike fasting monks swarming the place...yes, I think that's a safe assumption."

"Well, at least we're in the right place," Moshe said, pressing his lips together in a thin line. "Now for the difficult part."

Without even turning to her, I said: "Illyana, I need a good luh-luh-look-see inside there. I'd wuh-wager good money that they've got zuh-zero in the magick defenses arena."

"Good assumption," she replied from behind. "Off to Limbo I go then, da?"

"Off you go," I nodded, noting the soft whoosh! of imploding air as she slipped between the dimensions, leaving only the sweet smell of burning flesh behind her. Christ, we've got to do something about that. We can't have her every 'port leave the area stinking of a charnel house...

"All right," Haroun said. "Let's assume she's able to find Savijinia. Let's further assume it's in an area accessible to us. Now, we need to answer a question we're not used to answering: how much force do we use?"

I slid fingertips up to my temples, thinking. This wasn't like going up against poor, pathetic Vanisher or those Hellions we knocked heads with earlier. These were, to our best knowledge, baselines. Flatscans.

"Show them the same kind of mercy they showed Savij," Moshe offered.

Emma's brows lifted, but she said nothing. Watching. Always observing. Like an owl...

"And th-that means?"

The Israeli shrugged. "If they get in our way. Poof!" he said, cocking his thumb and index finger like a gun. "Right now, dealing non-lethal blows will only slow us down. And, if I may, the last thing we want to do is stick around long enough to be recognised by some smart-arse who happens to watch CNN. Our reputation's bad enough as it is."

"Surveillance cameras?" I cocked my head. "They'll sh-show what others might not ruh-readily recall..."

"All the more reason to be cautious," Emma warned, voice low. All of us, unused to hearing her voice since she'd hitched up with this motley crew, turned towards her. "Any and all actions should be taken to defend yourselves, yes, but undue violence isn't necessary and it isn't productive. Vengeance isn't our mission. Keep your eye on the ball, gentlemen, and we'll have her out of her in no time. Run your own personal agendas..." she glanced at me "...and we might make serious errors in judgement that'll have long-range effects none of us can anticipate."

Except, I thought to myself, possibly me. If my parabilities cooperate...

FWOOOSH!! A flash of yellow light--and the accompanying smell--heralded the return of Illyana, who looked a little worse for the wear, sweat streaming down her face. "Bozhi moi!" she swore, almost collapsing to her feet in the dank, moist bush that surrounded the complex. Gently, I leaned forward to stabilise her but she shook her head. "I'm fine, thank you."

"I take it you were successful, eh?" Moshe said, a smile creeping over his lips. Sadist.

Illyana nodded. "Da. But here is where it gets even more confusing. She is being held...well, that's the only way I can think of it as...inside some kind of hermetically-sealed ball. Her body's being monitored by a host of physical probes embeded into her, and I mean all over her. She's almost unrecognisable." Her eyes caught mine and looked down. "Sorry, Dom."

Moshe glanced at me.

"Any idea wuh-why?"

"Nyet," she said. "Though if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say she was undergoing some kind of series of tests. Or, alternately, that she was powering something."

"Savij powering something?!" Haroun exclaimed. "Wonderful."

The sorceress shrugged. "My best guess. That's all I can offer. Helpful?" she turned to me.

"You've got the s-s-suh-spatial coordinates? Can you g-guh-guh-get us there?"

A wistful smile. "In my sleep, Cowboy."

I turned to Emma. "You've been fairly quite. Anything t-t-to add?"

She glanced at all of us, capturing our eyes in turn. "One word and one word only."

"And that is?"

"Caution."

Office of Assistant District Attorney Leonard Hertzog

1st New York State Judicial District

New York City

09:02 hours...

Melinda Redding, District Attorney for the New York 9th Judicial District, which encompassed (among others) Westchester County, thumbed through the file Leonard had handed her over a half hour ago, her initial agitation transforming to first incredulity then outright astonishment the more she progressed. "Interesting reading, isn't it, Ms Redding?" I said, careful not to sound too much like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. I must admit, I scandelously enjoy human emotion and even the reasonable facsimile I impart to those I'm surrounded by is enough to cause a certain...frission within me.

Behind his desk, Lenny sat in stolid silence, his rye highball untouched since pouring it...about a half hour ago. A trickle of sweat rolled down his balding pate.

"This is..." she began, unsure of her words even as they spilled out of her mouth, "...incredible!" She turned to me. "Right under our noses? All this time? And you told none of this to our office? My predecessors?!"

Ignoring the public office ban, I lit my cigarette and took a deep tug off of it. Exhale... All for show, of course. I achieved nothing but the satisfaction of successful mimicry. No physical addiction was satisfied by this vice. Not that I was capable of one, in any case... "Of course not," I replied, smiling serenely. "National security interests were involved, Ms. Redding. You've worked with the federals before. You know that there are certain situations where it's best not to involve the local constabulary. It's as simple as that. And, really, we're not talking about a giant jurisdictional problem here. The Justice Department is, even now, drafting a memo to the 2nd Circuit/Eastern District. No one there will challenge jurisdiction. All the government asks is that the case proceed with prosecution being handled concurrently. If, say, your office feels they need a piece of the pie...no one will stop you from joining the festivities."

"Charges?"

"Conspiracy, racketeering, multiple accounts of assault & battery, a whole host of violated Energy Department and IRS regulations." My grin solidified in place. "There is enough evidence within that folder to put them all away for a significant amount of time. And there's much, much, much more where that came from."

She shook her head at the enormity of it all. "Why should the feds be in on this? Unless--?" she held up the folder.

I nodded. "Exactly. The nature of the information provided to Operation Crystal Palace was provided by the federal government. In addition, it is my understanding that since the X-Men's activities cross State lines, that automatically brings in the federal government." I ground my cigarette into the prestine ash tray--never used, I'd wager--Leonard kept on his desk. "But, I am not a lawyer, Ms. Redding. You'll have to bring up any and all such queries with the US Attorney's office."

"My God," she said, incredulity creeping into her throaty voice. "You guys work fast, eh?"

I resisted the urge to smile. I had won. It was simply a matter of watching the cards fall down around Charles' little band. Nearly a decade of work--since I'd assumed this position, seized this identity from the forgotten corpse now only unsung memories and scattered molecules--was coming to a swift conclusion. "As fast as humanly possible, my dear. Lives are at stake here. And I can assure you, my people take that very, very seriously."

More seriously, in fact, than you'll ever know...and for reasons you'll never be able to guess.

Not in a million of your lifetimes, human.

Or one of mine.

Arthasastra HQ,

Medan,

The Srivijayan Empire

18:24 hours (local time)...

The nape of my neck sizzled as I dove for the floor, my heart leaping to my throat, threatening to explode out of my mouth. I scarcely knew what was going on. All I knew was to roll. That's all I could do. No cover, no clear way out. Just me and this rather unpleasant surprise.

Even as my right shoulder met the tiles, I knew I would have to go on the offensive soon or this bastard was going to eventually figure out that his pot-shots were better replaced by a much wider beam. And, judging by what happened when that beam struck something, I'd say that my metabolism would be hard-pressed to deal with a full-body plasma bolt...

Fumbling, my hand eventually found my gun as I skittered across the ground, the smell of burnt synthetics and the tang of ozone heavy in the air. "Give up, Yankee!" a voice screamed from high above, taunting me. "It's hopeless! You're outgunned and in a very poor defensive position!"

No shit, I thought glumly, casting a glance upwards as the scintillating flame-being raced across the room, held in check by the limited amount of space he had to maneuver. Hmm...maybe I can use that against him.

I scrambled to my feet, darting across the room--a clear run with nothing but a single table, a couple of chairs and scattered magazines obscuring my way--in a fevered rush. Behind me, I could feel the heat as my opponent opened up on my general position. FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH! Semi-molten debris rained over me, tapping off of my skinsuit and exposed flesh. I felt nothing. My concentration was elsewhere...

[targetoneidentified]

[stresspointsidentified]

[tabulatingreactiontiming/speed]

[firingsolutionprepared--fireatwill]

...as I stabbed out a foot, skidding to a complete stop, and snapped around one hundred and eighty degrees. Almost of its own volition, my arm lifted and I squeezed off my shots high into the air where my adversary flew. PHUT! PHUT! PHUT! PHUT! PHUT!

Without even watching to confirm the results--

[comminutedfracture--rightfifthrib]

[comminutedfracture--rightclavicle]

[puncturedsternum]

[suckingchestwound--collapsedrightlung]

[pneumothorax]

--I reversed my course and ran as fast as I could towards the hallway through which I'd been chased scant minutes after arriving inside the complex.

[estimatedterminationtime--20minutes]

I fought down hard the urge to smile. Now was no time to celebrate. Something had gone wrong, I thought, the corridor racing past my eyesight, lungs burning with exertion. Emma! I 'shouted' telepathically, hoping to God that I hadn't broken her concentration at a critical moment.

This is not a good time, Dominic--

Like HELL is isn't! I snapped. I think I've managed to lose my tail. My god, was he a mutant?! And if so, what the hell was he doing here of all placed?!

A wave of frustration flowed across the linkage. The latter, of course, I cannot answer, but as to the former: yes. He is.

He's dead!

Not yet, she warned. You should've made certain he was down for the count.

I'd say death in twenty minutes isn't too far off, Emma! I mentally sneered.

Not good enough. He's trying to activate a general alarm even as we're gabbing. I'm going to have to cut you off while I take care of him from here.

You can do that?! Then why didn't you--?!

But the link was severed, cutting off any chance I had to wring her neck...

...metaphorically-speaking, of course.

Where are they, where are they! I yelled inside my head as the seemingly endless corridor stretched on with no apparent end in sight.

[identitycodifexed: Frost,EmmaW.(WhiteQueen)--32.4m alongpresenttrajectory]

[identitycodifexed: Rasputina,IllyanaR.(Magick)--34.1m alongpresenttrajectory]

--what the hell?!--

[identitycodifexed: Bar-Lev,MosheD.(Psynik)--34.9m alongpresenttrajectory]

Inside my skull--right behind my eyes, it felt like--a false-colour schematic of the architecture ahead, outlining the positions of every item and, more importantly, every teammate, sprung to life, replacing the comforting sight of my normal vision in an instant. I came to a halt with a start, suddenly disorientated by the swift shift in perception.

[identitycodifexed:--]

STOP!

In the blink of an eye--faster, perhaps, than even that--, the schematics were gone, replaced by the cold steel and tiled floors of the corridor. An afterimage floated just out of reach of my eyes. My fingers found my throbbing eyeballs underneath my specially-designed combat-glasses. So much I still don't know about what I can and cannot do...

I shook my head and resumed my run, trying to force myself to concentrate on the present. Ahead lay the rest and, hopefully, Savij.

Deeper in the Complex

Fifteen minutes earlier...

Something we should have thought about before we made this run: more firepower.

"Where the devil did they come from?!" Illyana shouted over the din, the sound of automatic rifles cracking over our heads. "I didn't see any of them in my scans!"

I glanced over at the Russian, wincing as a round ricocheted off the console above me, shattering the monitor's glass face into a million pieces. Glass rained down on me. The sudden hint of burnt circuits filled my nostrils. Good God this was just like Ramallah! I shouted inwardly. They have no idea where we are but it doesn't matter. They're emptying clips, hoping to get us with a lucky shot! "Maybe you're not as accurate as you thought, Russian," I snapped. "Or maybe this place was more shielding than we were led to believe."

Illyana slit her eyes in anger in my direction, but I had no time for her frustration. Right now, all I needed was eye contact with one of those bastards... The problem was how to get that contact without having my nose shot off in the process.

My eyes wandered over to Dominic's position, where my patroclus was doing no better though, lucky for him, he at least had a weapon with which to defend himself. Humph. I think right now I'd trade Iceman for my powers for all the use they are for me.

She is definitely inside this room, people, Emma transmitted--rather annoyingly--inside our heads. I'm reading seven hostiles, though only two have weapons. The rest, I assume, are scientists.

Well, that's a step in the right direction...

Wait a minute! There's someone else--!

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

A bright, white burst of light erupted right over our heads and I felt a rush of super-heated air jet from between the cracks where the console had been assembled. "Yowch!" I shouted, more in startlement than anything else. "What the hell was that?"

"Nothing but bad news," groaned Illyana.

Far to my right, Dominic slid to the floor, peeping around the corner of his console. BRRRRPTTT! BRRRRPTTT! went a chorus of guns, sending a cascade of sparks, debris and bullets in his general direction. I could have sworn he'd been hit several times by shrapnel but he'd ducked back before I'd a chance to see more. "Shit!" he shouted, nearly bumping into a prone Haroun..

"My sentiments exactly!" I responded.

Dominic cupped his hands over his mouth. "Illyana!"

"Da!"

"Tacit Thunder! Ruh-repeat: Tacit Thunder!"

I felt my eyes widen involuntarily. I saw Magick's jaw harden. This was not a maneuver we practiced a lot. Make that at all. It was simply too unpredictable, given the nature of the beasties yon fair Slavic maiden kept back home. Who could tell what their reactions would be once unleashed here, on Earth? "Da," she said, only loud enough for the two of us to hear. I could tell by the sound of her voice she liked this about as much as I did.

Not. At. All.

Dominic's going to lure that new entre out of the way, Emma 'said', explaining my friend's arcane logic as if she were talking about last nite's Giant's performance (or lack thereof, come to think of it...). Illyana, you bring in the cavalry but only inasmuch as you think you can control them. Not one iota more. They'll help us clean up the remainder as there are too few of us to guard the passages while we free Savijinia.

This isn't going to work, I replied, thankful that no telepathic communications could get through Illyana's seemingly impenetrable psi-screen. God knows what her take on this was... Even in simulation, she loses control. We're talking about independent-minded creatures here, not imbeciles. She's got an iron will but that's no match for an angel who fell out of favour several million years ago and has the balls to keep on keeping on.

Let's worry about that later, Emma shot back, dissmissively. One thing at a time and we just might make it out of this with a modicum of our bodies intact.

Oh. Pleasant thought, that.

At my side Illyana's light, golden brows furrowed, creasing her forehead deeply. Then, the unmistakable sound of one of her portals opening...a big one... FSSSWWWWOOOOOSSSHHHHHHH!!!

A mini-explosion of golden light followed as the membranes between realms weakened directly before us, atop the console, and threatened to collapse entirely. Light twisted about an invisible point some four or five feet up and the sickening sweet smell of pork filled the air as the ballooning thumb of Limbo's atmosphere invaded our own. I felt my stomach lurch at the scent.

For a moment all was silent, a serene calm filling the room. Undoubtedly, our hostiles hadn't a damned clue what was going on. Too bad.

Then, without warning, a brilliant streak of lightning stabbed outward from the dimple in space-time, cruscating about the surrounding consoles, igniting them with childish ease. A thunderclap pierced the air, its physical wake colliding against us in a pressurized wave of air. I held my teeth together against the bile that rose in my throat as the charnel smell increased to alarming levels.

A humanoid-shaped form began to tear its way through the dimple, stretching space-time along each limb and feature as it struggled to part the way. The surface of the body shimmered in a multi-coloured display. I heard the horrifying sound of a million souls screaming in agony, rising in an unholy crescendo as a monstrous form ripped through the gateway, parting the dimensional barrier. Terror gripped my heart as my eyes captured a glimpse--just a glimpse--of the creature my teammate had unleashed. I was huge. It was black. A multitude of muscular arms--too many to immediately identify--writhed about a chest that could've swallowed whole six men. It took a single step and the room shook with its weight.

I swallowed. "My God...what is it?!"

Illyana shook her head, almost with a hint of morose. My eyes were drawn to hers, but I found she was a million miles away when she spoke. "A soul unborn," she said. No explanation followed.

BRRRRPPPPTTT! BRRRRPPPTTT! BRRRRRPPPTTT!

The sounds of terrified shouts filled the room as the our hostiles attempted to ward off the latest visitor to the complex. To no avail, apparently. Though I was certain it had been hit, it seemed not to care one iota. I looked over Illyana's head to Dom, who risen up a bit, crouched and ready to run. He caught my eyes. We locked. It seems like a million words passed inbetween us. Words common only to those who've seen fields such as these, heard the sounds of gunfire and the screams of the dying or soon to be dead. He nodded, a gesture I returned. Neither of us needed to exchange words of encouragement. Whatever fates might be out there, they would judge the next few moments, for better or worse.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAA!!" the American shouted, tumbling forward once, twice, three times before coming to a rest precisely between his and our console. He lifted his Glock into the air, taking aim at the white-hot flame being that had, apparently been the one who'd attacked us earlier. PHUT! PHUT! went the gun, but even before the echoes of the first one had dampened, he'd come fully to his feet, heading straight for the entrance (or was it the exit?).

"Uh oh," I murmured. I had only moments to react.

FWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

The bastard'd come streaking down from high in the dome-shaped ceiling, burning brighter and brighter with each passing moment. I curled up in a ball at the base of the console as he passed over us, hoping that would be enough to protect me from the onslaught I knew was about to strike.

An enormous wave of heat washed over me, and I broke out into an instant sweat, sweat which, as quickly as it appeared, almost immediately evaporated. I could hear my hair sizzle and the smell of it filled my nostrils, my precious tallits, undoubtedly, now seared.

He's gone! Emma psi-shouted from across me. Now, while the guards are tied up with the demon, tackle the scientists!

I practically lept over the console, prying my eyes off of the beast which loomed ahead and scanning the room for--THERE!!

I'll rough them up a bit; disorientate them. They should be easy pickings for you, then.

My feet took on a life of their own as I rushed ahead, avoiding the scattered chairs and semi-molten debris which our departed friend had left for us, my eyes firmly fixed on the man who'd suddenly looked as if he'd been struck by lightning.

Which, to an extent, was accurate.

I lowered my head and pressed on, right shoulder forward, slamming into him at a full run, an act which carried us both to the floor. BOOM! "Wumph!" went the egghead as the air within his lungs rushed out to greet me. My fingers curled into a fist and I snapped it into his throat with a POP! as his larynx protested at my assault. His eyes practically burst from their sockets in pain.

Quickly! Scan him! Emma shot into my mind, as she, Haroun and Illyana raced from behind cover and headed in my direction.

But--!

We don't have time for morality now, soldier. We've got to get Savijinia out of that egg-thing NOW! I can't read her mind and God knows what that means! MOVE IT!!!

Without a second thought, I yanked the glove off my right hand, struggling to keep my prisoner secure with my legs. I felt out his pressure points, my fingers dancing across his skull. And then, with the sickening realization that this was the first time I'd used my ability on a live human being since Ramallah, I slipped effortlessly into his mind...

18:43 hours (local)...

I came to a halt just inside the lab room, my lungs on fire and my pulse throbbing heavily in my temples. God, why couldn't I've been born with wings?!

All humour drained out of me, though, when I saw the devastation inside...and the enormous, ebon creature which stood looming over my teammates. Jesus, Mary and Joseph...!

Haroun, crouched over this vaguely egg-shaped tub, snapped his head over in my direction, his cybernetically-enhanced hearing apparently picking up my entry. "Ya Dominic!" he shouted through his teeth. "Get over here, now!"

"But..." I pointed up at the creature which, to my chagrin, had also noticed my arrival...and turned to face me. Glistening teeth protruding from a massive set of jaws stared me straight in the face. I felt my heart murmur in more-than-mild protest.

"It's mine, Cowboy!" Illyana's voice rang out, her position apparently obscured by the monstrosity's bulk. "Savij is inside here, Dominic and we need your help moving her! We need your probability manipulation, Cowboy, because we haven't Clue One as to what it is she's connected to! So if you want her to live long enough to paste you one on the kisser--!"

I ran.

Everything was pushed out of my mind. The creature--which I was, even now, passing--, the unknown mutant which I'd left for dead, the charred remains of this laboratory and God knows what had happened here. Everything. There was only one thing that mattered now. And that was her.

Nearly colliding with Moshe at the front of the egg, I gazed over his shoulder...and shivered involuntarily. "Juh-Jesus...!" She was suspended in some kind of gelantinous, orange-red fluid, her body floating effortlessly inside it. Well, what I could make of her body, that is. Most of it was covered--and I mean covered--in wires, tubes and Lord knows what else. There was more silver than brown, her body--seemingly nude--wrapped in a cocoon of metal, fibre, and plastic. An oxygen mask covered the lower half of her face and two quicksilver-mercury thin wires slipped underneath her closed eyelids. There wasn't, that I could see, a single hair follicle on her body. She looked strangely febrile.

"Cuh-can you read her?" I stammered, looking over at Emma, whose furrowed brow and glistening sapphire eyes told me all I needed to know before she opened her mouth.

"No," she admitted. "But I don't know if that's her body's response to whatever they were doing to her or something enduced by this...this egg."

"How long do you think we'll be able to stay here before we're discovered?" Haroun asked, nervously glancing about before settling on the entrance from whence I'd come.

"I'd wager they already know we're here," Moshe answered. "If I were them, though, I'd be mustering my forces and sealing off areas surrounding this lab. I'd lock down everything before storming in."

I nodded. "Nuh-not long. We don't have but a few muh-minutes at best." My fingers found the gelatin and I was surprised to find it warm...disturbingly warm. "What the hell is this stuff?"

"God only knows," Emma said. She looked up. "We don't have time anymore. Illyana, take us out of here and take the whole egg with us."

The Russian slit her eyes. "Dangerous, even at the best of times. Even I've got a mass limit and, remember, I just brought Junior here," she said, raising her gaze to the creature that stood passively besides a pile of broken and battered bodies. "If I bring all of us, at one time, I cannot guarantee the resultant time or place."

Emma's lower lip slipped between her teeth and she clamped down on it. "Damn."

"Uh oh," Jetstream said, his eyes widening. "I'm picking up cellular and microwave comms from real close--probably no further than a thousand meters or so. I can't get a good lob on them so I cannot be certain of their direction but one thing's for certain." He found my eyes. "They're on their way."

"No time," I said, thumping a fist against the edge of the egg. "Illyana--"

"Da," she nodded. "Hold on...!"

I could feel the world around me shift, twisting out of shape as if a potter had become furious with his clay. All the colours ran together in a melange of light, forcing me to close my eyes against the display. The hairs on the back of my neck rose...

And then, the Earth fell away from me.

Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning

1407 Greymalkin Lane

Salem Centre, New York

991105

05:55 hours…

The mug was nearly half-way to my mouth when I heard the knock at the door. KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

I paused, startled, and glanced at the large Swiss clock that hung above the alcove before the staircase. Six o'clock? Who on Earth--? KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

My brows furrowed in suspicion as I turned on a heel and walked towards the double doors which heralded the entranceway to the Institute. Magnetically, I adjusted my robe, drawing it tighter over me. Thankfully, I was wearing my favourite pair of French silk pajamas. At the very least, I wouldn't be caught in a compromising situation.

KNOCK! KNOCK! --

"Yes, yes, I'm coming, I'm coming!" I said, hopefully loud enough to carry past the doors but not loud enough to stir anyone from their well-needed rest. I gripped the doorknob and twisted it. "Don't you think it's awfully early in the morning for solic--"

klick-KLICK!

"Michael Simon Xavier? Alias Erik Magnus Lehnsherr? Alias Magneto?"

I stared into the barrel of a gun. Not an ordinary weapon, that much I knew. I could sense no ferrous elements inside or about it. Entirely synthetic. But the design...I recognised the design. And it was that which sent chills down my spine.

A neutraliser.

Two gentlemen in business suits stood before me, both holding up badges. Inbetween them, a woman in SWAT gear, the neutraliser clasped firmly in her hand. Behind her, the vague outlines of many, many more...

"I'm Detective Rodney Pipes and this is Detective Brad Neusome of the New York City and Salem Centre Police Departments, respectively," the older, thinner one said. "We have a warrant to execute here, sir. Any resistance by you or any of the Institute's inhabitants will be considered a criminal act. May we proceed inside or do we have to take more...certain measures?"

I felt my blood rise to my cheeks as a chorus of releasing safeties echoed in the pre-dawn air. There was no telling just how many of them were out there. If the young lady in front of me was any indication, they, too, would be wearing synthetic armour oblivious to my detection. In any case, it was irrelevant. A single shot from her--one I would be hard-pressed to avoid at point-blank range--and I would be useless to anyone. I had no choice in the matter.

He called me 'Magneto'.

The 'game', apparently, was 'up'.

I stood aside.

Dyckman Fields (Inwood Hill Park)

New York City

991107

12:12 hours...

Her screams ripped through me like hot shrapnel.

"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiieiieeeeeeeeeeghhhhh!!!!"

A strong arm thrust out of the goo and gripped the air above it, fingers flexing spasmodically, the whole cocoon of wires and tubes stripping off of it as Savijinia went into convulsions the moment Illyana's portal opened up.

Unceremoniously, confused and disorientated by the 'port, I collapsed on the grass, the smell of clean air filling my lungs, replacing the stench of decay. My trembling stomach settled almost immediately.

"Ohgodohgodohgoooooooooddd!!"

I snapped my head up, watching as Savij lifted herself partly out of the egg, body dripping in gelatin and partly held back by the remaining IVs and wires...and something else. "Savij?" I whispered as she cocked her head to the left and I observed the back of her head for the first time.

My God...

It descended out of her bare skull, thick as a man's arm and glistening like nickel or silver. A long tightly-wound cluster of cables that terminated somewhere in the egg. Where the skull and the cluster met, the skin was red and raw, scar tissue having already begun to grow over the lip of it. My guts trembled.

Her eyelids fluttered and seemingly collapsed inward, their movements impeded by the wires that had been slipped underneath them. Beneath them, nothing. Cavernous holes where those beautiful mint-green eyes should have been.

"My God!" Moshe exclaimed, skittering away from the pod backwards across the grass. "Savij...what--?!"

"I-I-I-I-I!" her teeth chattered together. Her head suddenly snapped to one side, nearly throwing her outside the egg. A tortured moan escaped from her lips. I rushed up to her, slipping my hands around her, oblivious to the slime but careful not to jar any more of her implants--or whatever they were--than was necessary. In my arms, she quivered, her muscles spasming radomly. "Dominic!" she gasped, her hands finding my face.

I felt my lips trembling.

"Wuh-what did they duh-duh-do to--?"

"Trap!" she hissed, a stream of goo sliding out of her mouth, pooling at her chin. "Trrrraaap!"

"What?!" my spine froze. "What trap?!"

She tried to swallow, but only succeeded in retching. "'Mmmmm a duh-!"

I shook my head, not comprehending. "Say aguh-again! I c-c-c-can't under--!"

"'Mmm a duh-decoy!" she repeated. What? Oh my God...

I'm a decoy.

Savijinia's whole body seized up then, spasming in my arms. So strong were the gyrations that I was forced to let her go. "Ohjesusjesussweetjesus!" I ranted, stepping back.

"NNNNNNNnnnngggggaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!" she roared, rising up from the egg with such force that the contents were sent flinging into the air like a tsunami. I managed to turn to my side before the wall of goo struck me square on the right shoulder, drenching me from head to toe. "AAAAAAaaaarrrghh!!! The p-p-p-p-p-p-paaainnnnn!!"

With ungodly speed, she lunged forward, leaping out of the egg, and bolted towards Moshe who, like I, had been struck by the wave. Too late I opened my mouth to shout warning. In an instant she was upon him.

CRACK! went her fist across his jaw, snapping his head to the side, blood shooting from his mouth.

"Jetstream!" I shouted. "Backbreaker!"

From the corner of my eye I saw Haroun take a running leap into the air and activate his jetpack. FSSSSSSSSS!!! In the blink of an eye he'd covered the distance between where he'd landed and the tangled bodies of Savij and Moshe.

Everything...

...slow...

...down.

My analytical parability locked in just as the Moroccan passed me, dilating my sense of time. Even so, Jetstream sped across my field of vision, his arms locked ahead of him, aimed directly for the small of Savij's back

[warningwarningwarning!--localsuperstringconfiguration/cluster fissioning!]

What the hell?!

The motion was so fast, to unbelievably fast, that even hypercharged, my senses could barely follow it.

A ripple appeared directly behind Savij, a pulse of something that shimmered like the heat on asphalt. All too late I realised what was happening before my eyes. I could not even yell a warning this time.

[fission!fission!fission!fission!]

Space ruptured directly in front of Haroun, literally pulled apart by the unearthly forces that lay at Savij's command. The whole world lit up like a Christmas tree. For the briefest of moments, I thought I saw the glimmer of recognition in Haroun's eyes as he met his death. Soundlessly, effortlessly. One moment here, the next...gone.

"OhjesuschristFUCK!" Moshe gurgled as Savij's armsnapped out once more, her hand gripping his throat. In a heartbeat, his feet were dangling off the grass, kicking desperately. He slapped the sides of her head, trying futilely to lock onto something, anything inside her mind which might save him.

The Glock was in my hand even before I knew I'd drawn it. "Suh-Savij..." I half-moaned, approaching to within two or three meters of her. My barrel was leveled right to her temple. My hands shook but, even so, there was no way I could miss from this distance.

"I-I-I-I can't ssssssstop!" she chattered, her teeth cracking together forcefully.

Moshe was turning red, his eyes bulging. Time was running out.

I snapped my head around. Illyana was unconscious, drapped half over the egg, the exhaustion of the jump having taken its toll. Emma...my Lord. Where's Emma?!

"Dominic!" Moshe croaked. He'd begun to claw at her face, his fingernails digging into her skin. Blood flowed.

I clicked the safety off.

"Christ, Savij, puh-puh-please, let go!" I hissed, edging closer.

"ACK! ACK! ARRGH!" the Israeli choked.

[targetoneidentified]

[stresspointsidentified]

[tabulatingreactiontiming/speed]

[firingsolutionprepared--fireatwill]

The barrel moved from her temple to the base of her skull.

She turned her head towards me, eyelids fluttering over emptiness, lips trembling. "Do it," she whispered, her voice thick with pain. "Before I kill you, too."

Moshe's eyes rolled up into his sockets, his tongue, swollen and purple, thrust out of his mouth.

I opened my mouth to scream--

--and pulled the trigger.

Thirty Minutes Later...

I held her in my arms, rocking her still-warm body back and forth. I could feel the streams of tears sliding down my face. My throat was raw. I don't remember when I stopped screaming.

"Come on, buddy, let her go."

I did not recognise the voice.

I lifted my eyes to see a swarm of people. Flashing red and blue lights. The dull roar of an excited crowd. A presence behind me placed a hand on my shoulder. "She's gone. Let her go." Firmer now.

Two paramedics rolled a stretcher across the grass, a black body bag strewn across it. My heart sank.

They lifted her up, her body trailing a tiny remnant of the cocoon of exposed monitoring wires and tubes that had recently enveloped her. I watched, impassive, as they zipped the bag up. It was, in a way, the most horrifying sound I'd heard in a long, long time.

"Sir?"

I waited for a moment, not wanting to lose sight, then tore my eyes from her and turned to face the voice.

The voice held up a badge.

NYPD.

The blood in my veins turned to ice water. I began to tremble.

"Sir, I think you'd better come with me," he said, his fat, doughy face emotionless. I looked down at my hands. My right hand was covered in blood. To my left, the Glock, already being picked up by another officer with gloved fingers. It's ebon curves were coated in a sleek layer of gore.

"Wuh-where?" I asked, numbly, though I already knew what he would say.

"To the precinct house, mister," came the immediate reply. From inside his trench coat, he fished out a pair of handcuffs. "Turn around, put your hands above your head."

I did, affording me the view of the ambulance slowly driving away, peeling through the thick crowd that had gathered. A crowd which, right now, was drawn to me.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?"

click-CLICK!

I nodded.

"You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the State. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"Do you wish to waive those rights?"

My eyes lifted and found his. "Go. To. Hell."

He gripped my shoulder, pushing me ahead towards an awaiting squad car. "Let's go kid."

As we pulled out of the field, I caught a glimpse of Moshe and Illyana, the latter tending to the former and both surrounded by paramedics and not a few fops. I wanted to yell after them, tell them to escape, but I knew it was hopeless. Illyana was probably drained for a week, if not longer. There would be no easy route this time.

The trip to the precinct house took nearly a half hour.

It was the longest thirty minutes of my life.

finis

Thus ends the first cycle of 'Inbetween Days', 'Chess'

Next, the second 'Inbetween Days' cycle, 'Vigilantibus Et Non Dormientibus Jura Subveniunt'