Chapter Chapter Sixteen: Welcome to the Jungle, We’ve Got Fun and Games

The rest of what turned out to be a very late night snack went down quietly; each member of the dining party absorbed in their individual thoughts. Imogene was perhaps the closest to carrying on conversation, but she did not think her compatriots shared her perspective.

Timothy did not have time to think about himself or what he thought of where he was. He was too busy keeping an eye on all of his children; a number which had grown since leaving the hospital. Suddenly he had gained an additional son with a vision problem and a daughter who was perhaps more gung-ho than a division of Marines. Of course, none of the additions diminished the weight of the children born of his seed. Imogene was so much like Eleanor and in their current setting – that was seriously bad news! Gordon, whom Tim was glad to see on the rebound, had given his dying mother a promise Timothy was not sure he himself could have kept. He did not see how Gordon could have even initiated the quest.

Wayne was too busy taking in the scents and sounds of this new place! Rannis did not smell like anyone he had ever met before today and that was only the beginning! What had the woman done to Wayne to enable him to actually see again? She made it seem and feel pedestrian in scope and for her that had been good enough. For Wayne it was still mind-blowing. His world had grown so much in just a few seconds, seeing everyone and everything. All of a sudden he knew why so many male voices lowered when they approached Imogene or Sharon, though in the case of the latter Wayne still held to the conclusion they did so to relay a certain amount of bravado; the language traded between Alpha Males as it were. He smiled now, coming to the clear conclusion Alpha Males are still subservient to an Ultra-Omega Female. Perhaps that was why she was so drawn to Gordon. He did not put on airs for her. He was just Gordon. While youth might have been a clear explanation, Wayne noticed he did not put on airs either, and he was very close to Sharon as well. He took a large swallow of the sweet milk-like drink and kept his ears ready to receive a voice. Someone had to speak soon and Wayne’s money was on Gordon. His youth afforded him more than innocence.

Sharon was very hungry, but she ate and drank slowly, unsure of what the food would do to her system. She was pretty sure Rannis meant no harm, but the first time she had Greek food, the cooks of the restaurant had no malice in their actions either. She had missed most of Athens as her father called it.

” she thought as she put her glass down. “

!”

Sharon looked at her Genie and released a slight smile. She was indeed a young Eleanor, but she was still the best damn Goalie Sharon Thaxton had ever seen. She was not unstoppable, but nothing got by her, not without a lot of work! Sharon wondered what sort of soccer set-up she was in for now. What sort of scorer would she need to be to compliment her Goalie this time? Was she ready for the trip? Things were definitely out of her world now. What rules did this place play by?

Gordon’s eyes and head did not stop. He looked over every centimeter of the place where they were sitting and eating. And then there was the fact that something he could not measure was hovering over his head… over everyone’s head!

he thought as Rannis filled his glass.

The small cakes, which Rannis called pregels, were moist and sweet and went very well with the Cal-Milk. Their host, who had initially been all too engrossed with their every word, now seemed aloof, if not altogether distracted, as if the presence of his guests was keeping him from something important.

“I wonder what happened to Wilma,” Gordon said, finally breaking the silence. Wayne chuckled under his breath.

“Good question, Sport,” Sharon said before downing the last of her Cal-Milk. She noticed that Rannis was not eagerly standing by with the pitcher to refill her glass. “I guess every well runs dry sooner or later.

“Anyway… if there are more like Wilma around here, they probably called her home… let’s just hope it wasn’t for her last minutes of life.”

“Yeah,” Imogene agreed, unable to tear her eyes away from the enormous city that floated overhead. She kept asking herself how it stayed up and what were the chances of it ever coming down?

“Well, we’d better be off, then,” Rannis said as he stood up and typed a few commands into his computer bank.

“Off? To where?” Gordon asked as he started gathering the glasses and the serving platter that was empty, save for two very small crumbs.

“The Market! Well, we’re going to need more food, for one, hmmm?” Rannis said with a raised brow. He had been planning on taking care of that particular bag of pregels during the next match. “That’s for sure and for certain! While we’re at it, we might as well check on that account and see if we can get a price lock on a . I’ll warm up the transport.”

“Just get it out of your head right now, kid,” Wayne said with a smile, touching Gordon’s arm. “There’s no way he’s coming back here with the Millennium Falcon.” Everyone laughed as Wayne ran his hand over Gordon’s head.

“I’ll settle for a land-speeder,” Gordon chuckled.

In fact, they all laughed, until they heard the first explosion. Before they could verify with each other if they had all heard the same noise, another explosion went off and this one also kicked up some smoke. From behind an aisle in the Keep Yard, it ascended. It looked as if someone had taken a very old customized van, widened it, cut off the very top and then added a two-seater side car on the left, a three-seater on the right (though the side cars themselves were the same size) and a rear-mounted two-seater car. Three rings connected the rear and side cars to the Y-shaped brace that ran underneath the… vehicle. Each ring had its own set-up of running lights. The top ring ran clockwise, the bottom counter-clockwise and the middle ring just flashed. The twin engine set-up rested inside the Y-bracing and was the source of both the explosions and the smoke. Rannis sat behind the controls with a bright and hopeful smile on his face. He pulled back a large lever and both engines shot out green fire, sounding off another explosion. He replaced the lever and went to other controls.

“Here we are,” Rannis announced. “How do you like my transport?”

“Wouldn’t it be healthier to walk?” Wayne asked Sharon who snickered after slapping his shoulder.

“Her name is Dreamchaser,” Rannis said with pride, quickly working the controls to keep the vehicle balanced.

“Come on, guys,” Imogene said, turning to face her family. “How bad can it be?”

“Honey, you’re never supposed to ask that question,” Timothy said quickly. “Because no one wants the answer.”

“Amen to that!” Sharon agreed. “But it’s not like the chef prepared the meal and doesn’t want to take a taste. Rannis looks like a kid with his favorite toy up there.

“How do we get in?” Sharon shouted. Her answer came in the form of Rannis’ PEP. Before anyone could even say ‘thank you’ Rannis grabbed the large lever.

“Be good, girl,” he said softly and pulled the lever. There was a loud sound, but it was thrust, not an explosion, and Dreamchaser lunged forward. Gordon gave a howl of delight as Timothy grabbed something he wanted to believe would not come loose. Wayne smiled as Imogene and Sharon looked at each other. The sisters cackled as the craft climbed over the rooftops of other businesses and homes.

Imogene wrapped one arm around Sharon and the other found Gordon’s shoulder as Sharon held on to her sister and Wayne. Imogene threw back her head as the wind blew through her hair, “You guys have to forgive me for this one,” she said. “…’But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!’”

“You have some serious issues, Sis,” Gordon said.

“I don’t know, Gordo,” Sharon replied. “On Dreamchaser!” she shouted, leading a chorus of youthful cries of delight. Rannis held up his fist and gave a bit of a holler himself. But when the craft started to veer to the right, he decided to concentrate on piloting.

“We’ve got just a few moments before we reach the entry lanes,” Rannis shouted. “Imogene, Sharon… get up here and learn how to drive.”

“Hey, how come just those two?” Gordon said.

“Female chauvinism!” Wayne cried out. “Get a little taller, Gordo, and I’m sure they’ll let you drive. As for me, no one is that suicidal.” The craft shook as one of the engines backfired. “Okay, all of us are that suicidal, so I guess I’ve got a pretty good shot.”

“

,” Rannis thought as he moved over to the co-pilot’s chair. “

.”

“Sharon, you’re first, hmmm?” Rannis directed. “I get the feeling you’re going to take the least amount of time.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Imogene said as Sharon took the controls.

“Don’t take it personally, Genie,” Sharon shouted. “I’m free!” Sharon took the craft into a steep dive and increased speed. Rannis smiled as he removed his hands from the controls. As the rooftops drew closer and closer, Sharon could hear Timothy Schultz shout threats of telling her father what she was doing. “

,” she decided as she brought the craft level and flew between two tall and near buildings.

“Wow!” Gordon cried. “Sharon, that was excellent!”

“Think you’re pretty fancy, dontcha?” Imogene smiled.

“Like fancy could ever keep up with you, girl,” Sharon said with a bright smile.

“Then you must be something else,” Imogene declared.

As Dreamchaser climbed, they all looked out on the city. It was huge! They saw most buildings had a smooth shape and reached high into the sky. They were not as limited in color as the cities back on Earth. There was more to this city than glass or steel; the buildings were built in different colors and metals. Just on the other side of a park that dwarfed Central Park, there was a golden tower that was nearly fifty stories tall. Rannis chuckled when Imogene mentioned it, but he would not say what amused him.

Generally speaking, it was clear that the construction embraced nature; there was a designed forest of giant trees situated around what seemed to be a park and a series of small dome-topped buildings. Rannis said it was a church of sorts, but he again he would not give much detail. “If I tell you everything, what will you have to explore?” he asked and everyone, especially the girls, took that as a challenge.

Timothy soon got over his fear of the aircraft. Dreamchaser did not look good, but he recalled the car he had driven while he was dating Eleanor. There was no true manufacturer; his father had piecemealed the contraption together from a Ford Pinto, an AMC Pacer and an Army Jeep. Timothy had called it his JP Pacer and he knew he loved Eleanor when she smiled at him driving it for the first time. Her comments did not reference the car itself, just how Timothy looked behind the wheel.

“

,” he thought as Imogene took her turn at the controls.

“Pretty close,” Eleanor answered and Timothy jumped, looking into the rear section. “She has your face, but my eyes. The glow is not as bright as her father’s.” There she sat, dressed in her favorite color and wearing a smile he had fooled himself into thinking he had forgotten. She quickly lifted her finger to her lips to keep him quiet and then curled her finger to beckon him to sit with her.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered as he took his seat. “Is it really you?”

“Shall I tell you what we did in the JP Pacer after you proposed?” Timothy started to cackle, remembering how he had wanted to relive a scene from the Rat Patrol television show, only to find that driving on sand took a special kind of skill. He had rolled the car before he was done humming the intro music to the show.

Eleanor’s hand covered his mouth and Timothy jumped at the sensation of her skin on his face; he could smell banana and periwinkle. Eleanor jumped too as she looked at her hand.

“Wow!” she whispered. “That’s a first!”

“It is?”

“You better believe it!” Eleanor said as she looked at her husband. “Forgive me for this one,” she said as she threw herself at him and their lips touched. Timothy was in tears by the time they parted and Eleanor smiled as she wiped them away.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Timothy said.

“Yes, there is,” she disagreed. “That was so unfair of me. I am still dead, baby. The love of my children and my incredible husband has given me the power to do this. Or at least that is what I’ve been told. But look.” She reached for his hand and though he could feel her touch, the sensation was fading as her hand now moved through his; Timothy cried even harder. “You see, even with all that you give me, I can’t stay here.

“And neither can you, not really,” Eleanor said softly. “You came here for two reasons.”

“Make sure our kids were safe and to see you again,” Timothy answered and his sobbing was loud enough for Wayne to hear. With Imogene driving, he positioned himself behind Gordon to block the youngster’s view. The man needed a moment and Wayne would deliver all the cover he could.

“And you’ve done that,” Eleanor assured. “They are safer here than they were back on Earth. Though not much, just safer.”

“Hard to believe, right?” Timothy chuckled. “Our kids are safer in some strange world where junk flies and a junk man comes off like Hippocrates.”

“A man who collects the possessions of others is a man who sees the lives of many,” Eleanor said, reminding Timothy just how deep the waters of her wisdom ran. “Who is to say what he has gleaned from what others have discarded?”

“I miss you,” Timothy said with a smile.

“I miss you too, baby,” Eleanor smiled. “But it’s time you moved on with your life. Your heart’s too much of a treasure for you to hold it back from the world. You go around and rebuild so much of the history of man. My husband should start rebuilding his future too.”

“What if I’m happy with-”

“Tim, don’t,” Eleanor pleaded. “We both know what you’re doing. And I’m scared, too. Caught between life and death, and touching on both as much as I do. I don’t know how I came to be here, so I don’t know if I’m ever leaving. Nothing seems certain.”

“Your touch with Imogene is,” Timothy said as he looked down, accepting a bitter truth.

“That is more her than me,” Eleanor explained.

“I know,” Timothy replied, wiping away another wave of tears. “And it’s good. It is.

“And you’re right, as always,” Timothy admitted. “This place, weird as it is, I can just feel that it’s better for her. She’s got people hunting her back on Earth and they almost killed Sharon.” Eleanor’s gentle face twisted into something ugly and enraged. Her skin went from tanned to dead and gray; the yellow dress she wore darkened and grew rips along the seams. Her blue eyes were now black, crying blood with fiery red pits as the pupils. A low howl started at the pit of her stomach as Timothy suddenly grew cold. He recalled what it was to see someone like Eleanor become angry. Death had not changed her; but it had magnified her extremes. Timothy stood up and took in a deep breath. He wanted to touch his wife… he needed to touch her. He did not know what he was giving to cause her to be touched, but he put his will into the effort, desperately hoping it would work. He released his held breath as he sent his hands forward and shuddered when his fingertips grew very cold, bitterly cold! But he did not pull his hands back. If anything, his eyes flared wide and he reasserted himself, taking hold of his wife’s face, turning it to force her to look at him.

“You want the children to see you like this, Eleanor?!” Timothy barked in a whispered growl. “Is that what you want? If I am going back, then you will be all that they have here, and you want them to know about this?”

“Dad?” Gordon called out. “You okay back there?”

Eleanor heard her son’s voice. Gordon was her baby, and no age would change that in her mind. She looked up at her husband who had not swayed in the face of her worst form, a form she had hoped he would never see. The Thaxtons were family that had different blood in their veins. Sharon was just as much Eleanor’s daughter as Imogene belonged to Alan and Nora.

“I’m fine, son,” Timothy said, his eyes not moving from Eleanor’s. He could see past the blood and fire, past the mark of the and through his vision, Eleanor found her way back as she slowly took on a more pleasant appearance.

“I love you too,” she whispered as she began to meld into the seat. “But if you ever loved me, set my man free! Promise me, Tim. Promise me you’ll try.”

Timothy stammered. He had never refused his wife, and save for his foolish demand that she not die, she had never denied him. But what she asked was so heavy in his heart. He doubted his strength to see it through. After learning to fly, what appeal was there in walking again… especially when all the walkers seemed to be using canes and crutches! But it was Eleanor, and though she was out of his sight, he could still feel her. She was waiting for his response. Timothy never made his wife wait for him. “I promise, Eleanor,” he said softly. “Goodbye, baby!” When she was gone Timothy fell to his knees and allowed himself to cry one more time. Like Frank, he too had not cried at the funeral, but he did now. “I’ll always love you, though. Nothing can stop that, Eleanor. You can’t fight that wave either.”

“No,” she whispered. “But I will ride it as long as it lasts. If it’s any consolation, your love is one killer set! Best I ever saw!” Timothy mixed laughter in with his sobbing and waited for the time when his eyes would cry again. When he would have to look his children in the face and tell them goodbye himself.

“I believe you’re getting the hang of it,” Rannis said, flashing a very proud smile.

“I still can’t believe I took longer than Sharon,” Imogene said. “No offense.”

“None taken, Genie,” Sharon said, rubbing Imogene’s shoulders. “You’ve always been better at moving stuff than me.”

“Did it take longer?” Rannis asked and Sharon chuckled.

“What?” Imogene asked, thoroughly confused. “I don’t get it.”

“You are a sad, old, demented man,” Sharon declared.

“Who are you calling old?” Rannis asked quickly, causing Sharon to laugh harder.

“Can you guys let me in on the joke?” Imogene requested.

“It took you longer because you believe in her more than you believe in you,” Rannis explained. “You’re learning to listen to your instincts, but how can you hear them when your head is clouded with the opinions of others?”

“You were in on this?” Imogene asked Sharon.

“No,” Sharon smiled. “But the moment he asked if it really took longer, I knew he was about to hit you with something heavy.”

“Well, did it take longer?” Imogene asked.

“By about three and a half seconds,” Wayne answered. “And that was with you stopping the lesson twice to go over something.” Sharon’s eyes flared as she continued to laugh, but this time Imogene smiled with her. She faced forward and started powering up the engines.

“No, not that much power,” Rannis warned. “She’ll overload and blow an engine!”

“No she won’t!” Imogene whispered as she grabbed the lever and threw the Dreamchaser into overdrive. “She’s gonna burn the sky!” Dreamchaser’s engines delivered every bit of speed that Imogene asked her to give. Genie banked as she climbed and inserted the craft into the entry lanes. Traffic was light, so she had an easy time weaving around the slower vehicles. Gordon and Sharon egged her on for more speed and agility. Imogene was more than happy to provide them with all she could muster. They sped their way into the inner city and everyone either laughed or cheered.

After the pulled away, Rannis glared at Imogene and leaned on the console as he put his other hand on his hip.

“So, what do traffic citations run on this side of the Nexus?” Imogene asked meekly before she swallowed hard. Rannis said nothing as he resumed their trek into the city.

They climbed high again, back into the lanes, and so much passed under and beside them. There were other transports of course, but there were also trains and other forms of public transportation that looked more like tour busses for Hollywood. Zweit Pointe still loomed overhead and everyone kept from asking questions about how much the city weighed or what was being used to keep it above ground. Rannis brought up major landmarks, but explained none of them. One thing all of them learned on their way to Undertown was that it was a hub. In fact, Undertown went as far and wide as Zweit Pointe overhead, and perhaps a kilometer or three further. After that, everything was divided up into four enormous regions; each one vastly different from the others.

“What you have to understand,” Rannis told them, “…is that Undertown is a neutral ground between the Five Districts. You can see the four surrounding sections that are outside of Undertown and then there is Zweit Pointe that hangs over it. All of that together is called Five Pointes. This place is the symbol of peace in this dimension.”

“Dimension?” Sharon asked.

“Yes,” Rannis said, without blinking, “… this is a , or partial dimension. It was intended to be something of a resort destination. But, life being what it is, humans were forced to migrate here and carve out a way of life. Eventually the Penta-Regnum was formed and everyone became so engrossed with what they found that they soon forgot what they had been forced to abandon. This became their universe and time, as it has a flavor to do, passed. Of course, that was four Earths ago for you, hmmm?”

“Four Earths ago?” Wayne repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

“We have seen the Earth develop and destroy itself three times now,” Rannis answered.

“But that’s impossible,” Wayne said.

“Because of what you have been taught, yes?” Rannis asked. Wayne was too deep in thought to give an immediate answer. “Education is one of the things that those in power have learned to control. Hard to be mad when you are refused a right you never knew you had.

“And before you fall into classic conspiracy conception, the government is not your enemy. The decision on which truths would and would not be released was made before those in power were even born. Before the earliest traced ancestors were born. But that is another lesson. All you need to know for now is that despite what you see, everyone here is a distant relative of the Human Race.”

“And you guys know about us, but we don’t know about us?” Wayne asked.

“That was part of the agreement, as I am given to know it.” Rannis started making preparations for their landing. “But do not lose focus,” he warned. “I am not telling you this to amaze you.”

“You’re telling us so that we’ll realize that we will never be free,” Sharon said in a bitter voice.

“Never is a very long time, my dear, hmmm? And let me assure you that there are many stages of freedom. In some respects, we are all slaves, even if only to our thoughts, feelings and decisions.”

“If we are all slaves, then we are also all free,” Imogene concluded.

“Very good!” Rannis said as he parked Dreamchaser. “But our freedoms are limited and they often lead to a voluntary servitude.”

“You just contradicted what you said back at the salvage yard,” Sharon said.

“Have I?” Rannis questioned. “I told you to choose one. You assumed your options were limited to mistress or slave.”

“But you… you said...” Sharon stepped back and tried to recall every word that had been said.

“You people are in a difficult place,” Rannis said as he secured Dreamchaser to the parking slot. “The hunt you think you are avoiding by being here will only get worse. It’s just that here, if you play your cards right, you have a chance to fight back on even ground. Of course, that means you have to grow up fairly quickly.”

“That’s a deal-breaker!” Timothy snapped as he came down from the rear car.

“I hardly think it is,” Rannis defended. “Things are simply not as you and your late wife have assumed them to be.” Timothy glared at him in silence.

“And to save some measure of time,” Rannis continued as he disembarked, quick and strong in his movements. “… the answer is: my reasons are my own, hmmm? I have given you reasons to trust or distrust me. The choice, the freedom, is yours to make. Have a care how you secure those chains.” Rannis reached the stairs that led to a main walkway out of the hub-port. “Try not to dally, I am paying by the hour here.”

“What do we do now?” Gordon asked.

“Nothing’s really changed, Sport,” Imogene was quick to say. “Just the way we’re looking at it.”

“Looks the same to me,” Wayne quipped, lightening the mood for most, breaking the last straw of one.

“You think this is funny?!” Timothy snapped. “You’re just kids! Do you get that? Kids! That’s slang for !” Sharon’s wristwatch alarm sounded off just before it burst into scattered parts.

“Wow!” Sharon exclaimed as she moved away from the smoke. “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat! Looks like a few things are falling apart around here.” Timothy looked at her, confused as to what the alarm had been set for. Sharon made a motion like she was doing a pull-up. “I usually do a few sets and some crunches before bed.”

“Excuse me,” Wayne said as he walked for the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Timothy said.

“I’m pulling a very ugly card, Mr. Schultz,” Wayne explained. “You see, you’re not my father and I’m voting with my feet.”

“Glad you feel that way, Wayne, but I have a responsibility to every child on this thing.”

“Transport,” Gordon corrected, but lowered his eyes when his father glared at him.

“And what are you going to do, sir?!” Wayne said quickly. “Against all of those looking for Genie? With all due respect, Mr. Schultz, not even Sharon’s Dad could stop them without Imogene’s help. Now I know I’m the only blind one here, but maybe my lack of vision allows me to see other things a lot more clearly. Like the fact that when Alan Thaxton comes up on the losing end of things, it might be time to fold your tents and get out of town!

“What are your parental hopes going to do to Solomon Seaver?” Wayne continued, growing more desperate in tone with each word. “He’s got a weapons designer with government contacts looking over her shoulder for him! What are you going to do with that, sir? Get out your slide rule and tell us that the hole these people are stomping in our backs makes a good place for an early English foyer?!

“Haven’t you been listening to anything that Rannis has been saying?!” Wayne cried. “Lives are on the line here and this is the first time and first place where any of us have felt like we have a snowball’s chance in hell of coming out alive!”

“Wayne,” Imogene said softly, but Wayne cut her off quickly.

“Don’t you dare!” he screamed at the top of his voice. Sharon reached for his arm, but he quickly pulled himself away. “Don’t you dare! The only friends I’ve got are right here in the thick of all this. Don’t you dare tell me I’m not involved! The only people who ever made me feel whole are in trouble. One is hunted and the other was shot in the head trying to protect her.” Imogene shot her eyes over to Sharon who quickly looked down. “I’ve always been ‘Wayne, the blind kid’,” he resumed. “Sharon never once showed me shallow sympathy. I went to P.T. with her in the mornings and when I fell she never once coddled me. She pushed me, saying I should have memorized the obstacle course! And I had no room to complain, because she was running it with a blindfold on!

“And Genie let me know that the only thing holding me back was me. Did you know I could sculpt, Mr. Schultz?” Wayne asked, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a photo-lab envelope and held it out.

“Wayne,” Timothy said softly.

“Please, look at it,” Wayne pleaded. “You’re about to ask me to swallow your conception of reality because you’ve been alive longer. Well, you take a look at my conception first!” Slowly, Timothy took the envelope from Wayne’s hand. Before he opened it, both Gordon and Sharon were immediately members of the viewing audience. Oddly enough, Imogene did not move, and when father looked upon daughter, Timothy knew Imogene had had a big hand in whatever he was about to see.

“

” Timothy thought as he opened the envelope.

“Don’t be too sure,” he could hear Eleanor warn him. Timothy noticed that no one else looked up or turned around. She was speaking solely to him, so he decided not to look where he thought her voice was coming from.

He pulled out a stack of photographs… at least twenty of them. But the count did not matter to Timothy, as the first picture shook him to the core of his fatherly beliefs. Mounted on a pedestal was a statue of Imogene wearing a long flowing robe just like the kind Eleanor was wearing. Imogene was leaning against a column, her hand up behind her head, looking off into the distance. Though the statue was not worthy of the New York Met, it was far beyond what a blind person should have been able to compose. At least, that was what Timothy thought.

“Wow, Wayne, you made Genie look good!” Gordon said.

“Thanks, Sport,” Imogene said with a sneer.

“He’s right,” Timothy said softly, still holding the first picture. Sharon eased the stack out of his hands. She and Gordon walked off to look at the collection. Each new picture brought comments of amazement.

“I think you’re a hit,” Imogene said.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Wayne quickly added.

“Sure you could have. I just posed, you made the art.”

“About the posing…” Timothy said, holding up the picture; the gown was form-fitting... and the artist was blind! There was only way he could have made her body.

“I was wearing my steamer, Dad,” Imogene replied. “The gown was something Wayne added.”

“Oh… oh, okay,” Timothy went back to looking at the picture.

“Steamer?!” Gordon whispered to Sharon. “He still had to feel her body to sculpt the curves, right?”

“Let’s not go over the obvious right now, Sport,” Sharon softly answered, still going through the photographs. “Suffice to say he had to have damn near biblical knowledge of my girl’s body to do this stuff!

“

,” Sharon thought. “…

.

!”

“You think he’ll reconsider?” Wayne asked.

“It’s not a matter if he does or not, Wayne. It’s whether he goes back to Earth happy with me staying here.”

Timothy looked at Imogene and then at Gordon. While his daughter met his gaze, his son was preoccupied with the other pictures. He was curious to see the rest, but the looks on Sharon’s and Gordon’s face clearly spelled out they were truly amazed with what they saw. Timothy searched his mind for a point –

point where he could mount a counter-argument… but his mind failed him.

After another reminder of costly time from Rannis, the group decided to disembark Dreamchaser and get to the business of gaining information. As they walked through the Western Mezzanine, they all got a good look at what people looked like and what clothing they wore. The bodysuits Rannis had given them passed as adequate, but not much beyond that. Everything was so expressive. It reminded Imogene of the time she had walked down the streets of Tokyo with her father, only the fashions here were not as overstated. Some were definitely comical and some looked like they were going for a theme – they seemed to be traveling in groups, and Rannis warned everyone to steer wide of that sort. Various colors and textures were walking around everywhere. Every now and then they saw a throwback to earthbound fashions as some walked by in tuxedos and formal gowns.

The first stop was the bank where Imogene presented her ID card. The account was shifted to her name and she was directed to the Account Administrator’s desk. The woman seemed pleasant, but her wardrobe was theatrical; she looked like a witch as she took her seat. Her smile was warm and inviting.

“Ms. Schultz?” she said as she adjusted her clothes while she was sitting.

“Yes, ma’am,” Imogene answered.

“I am pleased to welcome you to our banking institution; after all the appropriate transfer fees were assessed, you have a balance of eighty-six credits.”

“What?!” Imogene said as she stood up.

“Uh-oh,” Sharon said as she stepped back. “This doesn’t look good. And you shut up,” she said, slapping Wayne’s arm.

“Cut off in my prime,” Wayne said with a smile.

“Eighty-six credits?” Imogene repeated. “Are you kidding me?! What happened to the thousands that were supposed to be in there? What about interest?”

“Oh, dear, this was not an interest-bearing account,” the woman answered. “This was a market-bearing account. That amount in the account rises and falls based on the particular trade upon which the account was initiated.”

“Could you say that in simpler terms?” Imogene asked.

“When the trade does well, in this case the account is based in Programming Development, a percentage of the trade your account helped finance pays you according to the surplus they gained. Prog Dev has been failing for the last three quarters now, and therefore, to maintain their business, they used the funds within the account.”

“Can I put a stop to that?” Imogene asked quickly.

“Why, yes, of course. Is there another trade you’d like to use?”

“Wait a second,” Imogene said. “Is there a charge for changing trades?”

“Yes there is,” the woman said with a smile. “It is 1,000 credits.”

“A thou-” Imogene gasped as her face grew more stern. “And what was the transfer fee for the account to be put in my name?”

“Seven hundred credits,” the woman answered in a clear and plain voice.

“My goodness! Well, don’t change the trade, let’s just put the account…”

“In suspension? That would be free of charge to setup and three hundred to take it out of suspension.”

“Suspend it,” Imogene demanded as she got up and walked away. She stormed over to Rannis and somehow kept from screaming.

“What’s our next stop?” she asked and Rannis turned and walked out of the building.

They took the moving walkway to exit the Mezzanine and enter the Bazaar. The group took every opportunity to look at the different people. One man had horns on his head and looked like a Minotaur; Rannis explained that the horns had probably been surgically grafted to the man’s head, along with extra muscle. This gave birth to a very long conversation about what could and could not be grafted to the body. Suddenly Earth-side plastic surgery seemed pedestrian, if not moronic.

“So what is that?!” Gordon asked as he jumped off the moving walkway.

“That would be a Public Advisement Viewing or PAV grid, hmmm?” Rannis answered. “I believe they call them billboards on the Earth-side, do they not?”

“I think he means what they are showing the viewing grid,” Imogene corrected.

“Oh,” Rannis said, taking a moment. “Oh, that’s Edge!”

“Edge?” Timothy asked.

“It is a barbaric game, hmmm?” Rannis explained. “It is played on hoverboards of one sort or another. You wouldn’t be interested.” Rannis turned and started to walk. Sharon caught his arm before he could make one stride.

“Keep going,” Sharon requested and Rannis quickly turned back to the advertisement.

“Well, you have four teams on what is called a Quad.”

“Four teams all playing at one time?” Gordon asked.

“Yes, one team per section of the Quad, or Quad Quarter. There are five persons to a team; Flyer, Left-Wing, Right-Wing, Force and Goalie. Points are scored by placing the game ball, called the spike, into any one of the three goals located at each end of the Quad Quarter. You can fly the spike in, run it in or throw it; each brings a different score amount. Scoring while in flight brings the most points, because it is the most difficult.”

“No doubt!” Imogene said as she continued to watch. “You know, Rannis, on our side of the Nexus, professional athletes tend to make a great deal of money.”

“Then our worlds share something in common, hmmm?” Rannis explained. “Even the Minor Circuits are very well paid. And if you can secure a position on a corporate team, oh my!”

“That ‘even ground’ you spoke of earlier,” Imogene said softly, “… it’s going to cost, isn’t it?”

“I’d say it will be more than a reasonable expense,” Rannis replied.

“And you’re in with us, aren’t you?” Imogene continued her interview.

“Listening to your instincts, hmmm?”

“Yes,” Imogene replied, sure that she was listening clearly.

“Then you needn’t ask, eh?” Rannis asked, walking away before he could get an answer. Imogene walked over to Sharon. She used light steps and never looked up, for fear she would see her father looking back at her.

“You know,” Imogene started, “we don’t know how much transit is going to cost.”

“But you can bet it will be more than eighty-six credits,” Sharon continued.

“Those hoverboards look an awful lot like boogie boards,” Imogene said. “Maybe a little longer. I can be Goalie and you can be Flyer.”

“That leaves three positions to fill. Provided we just don’t try out for a team.”

“I can’t say that would be a smart play,” Imogene said.

“What happened to you on our trip over here?” Sharon asked. “You know, when you were catching us up on what’s been happening to you, the trip over here was the only thing you described briefly. And I gotta say, I’m noticing changes!”

“I promise, I will tell you later,” Imogene said. “But when I say you, I mean just you!”

“Hey, you know how we do it!” Sharon took a strong hold of Imogene’s hand. “I’m your sister, and I got your back!”

“I’m going to need you there, Shar.”

“Agreed! But I can’t have your back if you’re a Goalie. You said yourself, those things move like surfboards. Girl, you’re the best surfer I’ve seen outside your mom. You need to be a Flyer… I’ll be your Force!”

“I can just hear the jokes on that one,” Imogene whispered as she thought. She looked once more at the advertisement and a smile curled her lips. “Let’s do it! But if we need players, I say we recruit from Earth-side. We just need to find three.” Imogene looked at Sharon who was looking at a picture of one of Wayne’s wood carvings.

“We might just need two,” Sharon said. “I think we have a Goalie, especially if he can memorize the scoring area.”

“Are you nuts?” Imogene asked.

“What’s so nuts about it?” Timothy asked and the girls jumped. “What? It’s not like you two were speaking a foreign language.

“But there is one thing I have to know,” Timothy said, facing Rannis.

“Yes, I promise you they stand a better chance here than on Earth. In fact, here… they may actually triumph,” Rannis theorized as he lit his pipe again. “Everything happens for a reason, Timothy. Your daughter is a living Shard,” he said in a low whisper. “The last one of those was around the days of Ramses the First.” Timothy’s eyes gaped wide as his body became very still.

“And as for travel expense, if you all are good to your word, I may have a back that you can use.”

“You have my word!” Imogene said quickly.

“Our word,” Sharon corrected.

“All of us,” Gordon asserted and everyone, including Wayne, turned to face Timothy.

Father walked over to son and each step seemed to take a lifetime for both of them. For Timothy, the decision was already nine-tenths made. That was down from the one hundred-tenths it had been when they had first arrived in Undertown. But so much of what he had thought and understood to be truth had changed since then, and in no small part due to the one-sided conversation he had with Wayne, for whom he still had no answers. He had just been in a flying car and he was now standing in a city that was easily five times the size of Manhattan. The people that walked the streets were alien to him and some of them had glowing eyes that allowed them, at will, to freeze people where they stood, heal them from a fatal gunshot wound to the head, and teleport up five floors. His daughter and her closest friends had just befriended a junk dealer who came strapped with his own Finger of God energy weapon that the same junk dealer considered second rate with regards to its power supply.

“

,” he thought, .”

“I take it this is something you want to do?” Timothy asked his son as he squatted to look the young man in the eyes.

“You heard what Wilma said,” Gordon replied.

“Wilma’s not your father, and she’s a far cry from your mother,” Timothy clarified. “Besides, given what happened at the hospital, I think we can all conclude that Wilma is not perfect. Now I know you’ve got lights in your eyes, but try to recognize what you’re asking me to do. So, I ask you again, is this something you want to do?”

Gordon had expected many words to come out of his father’s mouth. But the ones he chose to speak, and in such a calm and even tone, made the young boy think and think hard. He looked up at Imogene who was doing her best to wear a poker face. She was not very good at it. He then looked at Sharon.

“No hints here, Gordo,” Sharon said quickly. “This is a road you’ve got to walk alone.

“But I can say one thing,” she continued as she squatted. “No hard feelings either way, Sport.”

Gordon reached out and touched Wayne who quickly took hold of the hand and smiled.

“While I’m moved to say ‘ditto’, I will add one thing to all of this. It might help you in making your decision: why or why not?”

Gordon looked down and then back at his father. He then looked up at Rannis whose eyebrows lifted.

“No offense,” Gordon said softly. “But I already have an answer.”

“None taken,” Rannis replied as his face relaxed into a smile. “I appreciate the compliment.”

“No, Dad,” Gordon answered as he looked back at his father. “This isn’t what I want to do. It’s something I need to do!”

Timothy stood up and spoke to Rannis, keeping his eyes on Gordon. “This Edge is a pretty dangerous sport, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Very much so.” Rannis answered.

“I probably don’t want to know why the ball is called a spike, do I?”

“Most assuredly not.”

“This one does not play,” Timothy said, pointing at Gordon.

“Dad!”

“Done!” Rannis said quickly and a shocked young boy turned to glare at the one who had just stabbed him in the back. “We all make sacrifices, little one, hmmm? No offense.”

“That’s the deal, Gordo,” Timothy said. “It might seem like a crappy deal to you, but I either get your promise that you never play, or you come back with me and we go to South America as soon as we get back.”

“That’s not fair!” Gordon shouted.

“Sounds like we have a deal-breaker,” Timothy said, reaching for Gordon’s arm. His son jerked away quickly.

“Okay!” Gordon yelled. “I promise not to play with Imogene’s team! Okay?”

“Fine by me,” Timothy said, keeping the tears at bay. “So about this you might have?”

“Follow me,” Rannis said with a smile. He puffed on his pipe and blew out hazy blue smoke. “I know a merchant, who knows someone in the transit authority, who owes her a favor.”

“So what are we talking, a percentage off?” Timothy guessed.

“Deferred payment,” Rannis grumbled. This was just beginning and already he could feel it in his wallet.

“

!” he thought, smoking his pipe. “

.”