You wake aching all over, but the pain rapidly flees as does the demented dream of Ari and Ban-Sidar playing a game of dolls on your grandmother's kitchen floor while the Wolf chases the cat around the house, and breaks lots of things.

You realize it sounds like the Wolf has turned on a music station by brushing against a button, but then you realize that it is indeed music you hear.  Drums, tamborines, guitars, liquid voices raised in song, and warm laughter, but the language evades you at the moment.

"Senorita, por favor, are you well?"  You open your eyes to see a dark-skinned man with a mustache, and a porkpie hat, and a pastel shirt untucked bending down before you on one knee.  His manners are courtly, and his eyes seem kind.

Its hot and sticky in this alley filled with boxes of bananas, and the song seems to come from the end of the alley.  But with a shiver, you realize that you feel just fine.

PT

This doesn't look like any Heaven I've ever heard about.  And, although it's warm, this doesn't match any description of Hell.  My last memory is some big fast thing ripping my guts out as I blastered the crap out of it.  At least we won.  I know that I died, but I don't feel dead.

I open my eyes.  Who is this guy?   Where is this guy?   I have to say something.  I have to do something.  I sit up slowly and look around where I was laying to see if I can locate my stuff.  Someone else finding my blaster pistol or laser rifle will be in for a rude suprise.

Uhhhh...  Hello.  I think I was overcome by the heat.

Your blaster is laying on the ground near your hip.  The laser rifle is on your back.  Somehow you know something is behind you.

"Ah, senorita, if not for that I would think you were DEA with all those weapons.  But, we all have our moments of overindulgence.  It is nothing to be ashamed of, just so long as you don't make a habit of it.  But please, come to the bar, the host will get you a pina colada, or a daiquiri I am sure.  Chase away the crash."

He extends a hand, and helps you to your feet, and then leads you down to the street which is filled with all manner of cars and busses dodging and weaving frantically with no regard for the clearly painted lanes, or for stop signs.  The cars range from the 1950's Mustang thickly hand-painted a hideous green to a brand-new model of a Lexus which looks familiar to you as you remember tailing someone who drove one back in 2005.

He helps you up into the porch bar, and rattles off a flood of Spanish.  The barkeep turns to you after hushing the muscians, and from behind his post asks...

"What will you have? First drink is on the house for a gringo."  His manner is less courtly, more direct, but still friendly.

PT

I reholster my blaster pistol.  I will have to be careful about wasting ammo with my energy weapons.  It is a very long way to go for reloads.  As I get up, I look behind me to see what is there.  I'm hoping to see and be able to snag my backpack and my waistpack.  I wonder what he means by 'chase away the crash'.

As I walk, I notice that no one seems to mind the fact that I'm wearing enough weaponry to start a small war or that my rifle looks like a prop from a sci-fi film.  That is strange, but then I just woke up in an alley when I shouldn't have.  One of the cars gets my attention.  The ugly green Mustang has a body style that looks a little off.  The Mustangs I am familiar with originated from around 1965.  Maybe I'm not just doing these serial reincarnations in my own timeline, but in other realities?  It feels sort of like 'Quantum Leap' meets 'Sliders'.  Then again, maybe I just watched too much television.

I look at my rescuer and smile.  I'm sorry, but I do not have any local currency.  Perhaps, there is a bank nearby?  How could I, since I basically just arrived.  I'll play along for a while.  Maybe I can get some clues as to my current location.  I could be anywhere from Mexico to somewhere in Central or even South America...  assuming that I had made it back to Earth, of course.

"Oh of course, senorita." He begins, and then nearly everyone else at the outside tables on the porch bar begins as well.  Each one trying to talk at the same time.  It takes a bit of effort, and some shouting to get them calmed down, but you get instructions to several nearby banks.

During this time, you see one guy put a short automatic weapon on his table with a casual ease, and another shifts his AK-47 on his back to get it more comfortable it seems, and one of the ladies has a small pistol attached with a holster to her leg just above her high heels.  And thats just the weapons easily visible.

Making a note to avoid bar fights in this place, you move on....

The nearest destination is two blocks to the south toward the Mountain of the Presidente.  Its easy to see because there is a mountain south of the city, and it has what has to be the largest building you've ever seen draped over it in shining Carrerra marble.  Only the top and bottom one-third is not covered.  On the top is some sort of very tall statue of a female, you'd guess, but its at least five miles distant.

The air is filled with pleasant tropical aromas, along with a few not so pleasant.  The walk to the bank has you using the right half of the sidewalk as does everyone else, because sometimes parts of the left are used by the maniacs who pass for drivers.

You occasionally hear snatches of English amidst the flow of Spanish.  Invariably its a tourist who is either conversing with another tourist or one of the shopkeepers who wait in the doorways of their small, brightly painted shops to try to lure customers in.

You hear a few people whisper "DEA?" when they see you, but most seem to think not for some reason.

Arriving midway down the second block, you are already freely sweating since its about thirty degrees warmer, and much more humid than where you were an hour ago.  The imposing bank, a marble faced structure, looms over its neighbours swept up tight against it (a barber shoppe, and a tiny convenience store).

"Banco de Buenos Aires" is inscribed over the top.

You open the door, and step inside the richly dark lobby, and into chilliness. The beads of sweat turn cold instantly on your arms.  Their AC is running full time.

A charcoal gray suited door greeter bows to you.

"How may the Bank of Buenas Aires assist you at this time?"

PT

'Banco de Buenos Aires'?  Well, I had a little better idea of where I was.  I was still bothered about the strange Mustang.  I thought about swapping out my dollars for whatever they used here, but if this wasn't my version of Earth, I might be arrested for forgery or something.  I did still have my emergency money to use.  I think dropping into the middle of Buenos Aires after having been killed on another planet might just qualify.  I thought about my career as a Combat Consultant and made a mental note.  Next time you get a job, try to get paid at least once and hold out for precious metals or gems.

I smiled at the door greeter.  I have an old coin left to me by my Father.  I would like to exchange it for local currency.  Who takes care of these things?  They didn't seem worried about my weaponry.  I had to wonder what bank guards carry if the citizens walk around casually with automatic weapons.

"Of course, senorita. Let me take you to Senor Esteban."  He escorts you across the lobby, and up an elevator to the third floor, and then down one hallway withe genuinen offices, and down another to a door.

"Senor Esteban, the American lady has a coin..."

The distinguished grey-haired man inside gets up, gets you a chair, offers you some coffee, and chats with you a bit.  He asks you for your name, if you don't mind, otherwise he's willing to let it slide.

You have seen a guard, but in between his powdered doughnut in his gun hand, and his .38 revolver, and generally sleepy look, you didn't get that feeling of intimidation.  Also, everyone, except for the drivers, has been absolutely courteous and gallant.

He examines your coin closely.

PT
OOC: What coin is this? Do you tell him your name?

OOC: It's a 1 troy oz gold coin called a Krugerrand.  The coin is dated 1970.  (in waistpack on equipment list)   http://www.taxfreegold.co.uk/krugerrandinfo.html

BIC:  I removed my multi-visor as I entered the office, replacing it in my very full backpack.  I made sure that it was off.  Replacement batteries were probably going to be a problem for this, too.

When asked, I freely offered my name, Terri Reynolds.  Why not, since it was on all of my other identification papers, not that anyone asked.  I wasn't sure if I qualified as a senorita, but it was a bit better than being refered to as "the American lady" by everyone.

I didn't want to seem like a crass American, so I offered Senor Esteban one of the chocolate bars I had been saving for trades in the village.  It was only after that I offered it that I noticed the expiration date on the wrapper.  Crap.  I'm not very good at this serial reincarnation business, yet.

As Senor Esteban examined the coin, I looked as hopeful as I could.  My Father gave me this coin.  I have fallen upon hard times and need to see what it is worth.

He delicately bites the chocolate and makes what look like sincere signs of appreciation while offering you some of his chocolate which is far better in quality and freshness.

He types up on his computer, and makes a face of surprise, and asks to see your papers which you give him, and he restrains his surprise a bit more this time.

"Terri, I'm afraid this coin won't be able to help you if your needs are that dire.  Perhaps you should apply to El Presidente Velasquaz, he is after all a notably generous and fair man, and loves to help out his American tourist friends?"

He then pauses.

"Now, I suppose the bank could make you a small loan, in the low six figures, dollars or pesos if your needs are truly that severe, but I would have thought, even though it is not my concern, that your account had plenty in it already."

PT

I took a deep breath.  I needed the time to think about what I had just heard.  A Krugerrand was worth about four hundred dollars when I got it.  Now, it isn't worth very much.  What do they use here?  And I was wondering about this loan in the low six figures.  In numbers, that is called a hundred thousand.  Before this all happened, I almost needed a cosigner to get my classic '69 Mustang GT.  How in the world would I qualify for a loan of hundred K?

I wanted to know what this guy had on me on his computer.  Senor Esteban, something on the screen seems to have taken you by surprise.  I would like to know what it is about me which concerns you.  Also, it has been some time since I examined my account.  Would you be so kind as to tell me the current balance?

"Of course, of course." He spins his computer monitor which is positioned on top of an ebony wood lazy susan.

The screen is full of biographical information, but what first catches your eye is a picture of a woman in a brightly flowered dress and sun hat...you.

The information on where she lives is not yours, for she lives in NYC.

The money account is not familiar to you either...$21,475.98 Dollars.

"As you can see, a, at best, seven hundred extra dollars is not going to help you.  But we could see our way clear to advancing you perhaps a hundred twenty...thousand US dollars if you are in need. After all, you do have your trust fund."

PT

A hundred and twenty thousand dollars?  Trust fund?  And why would I ever wear such a stupid looking floppy sun hat?  I suppose I could get a few dollars from the other me for basic living expenses.  I would need some local clothing, lodgings, and walking around money.  I was a little concerned about that little matter of fraud, though.

Actually, I'm supposed to be here quietly, but someone swiped my travelling papers and money.  I feel like such a fool.  The loan would be greatly appreciated, but I would also need to rely on you to be discrete.  I'm on important business, and it wouldn't be good for the news that I needed additional funds to leak out.  I'm sure that you can understand my situation.

I hoped that he understood what I meant.  I wasn't too sure that I did.  All I remembered from my life before all of this was that Argentina had oil and food to export.  I didn't know what that had to do with me, but I hoped that he would fill in the blanks for himself.

He smiles knowingly.

"Ah, of course. You want to import some cocaine into the States. And you don't want those vile dogs at the DEA to know about it.  Of course, of course.  Senor Presidente Velasquaz of our lovely nation, Brasilia would smile on you for your brave efforts to spread happiness around the world.  I too approve.  Lilith bless and guide your hands as they do Her work."

He begins to get the paperwork ready by calling to several assistants.  They confer with him, and he turns to you regrettfully.

"My dear senorita, I hope this is not too inconvenient.  We won't be able to get everything done today. Its not a matter of our not doing it, its simply that paperwork forced upon El Presidente by the evil DEA requires a great stack of paper for you to be signing.  Like twenty times.  Much work. And tommorrow is the day of worship, so we should be able to get things to you for Monday before lunch.  However, I can give you a letter promising you this money which will be a legal contract, and you can of a certainty have people accept it as proof of your finances."

He gets up, swoops out, and comes back in with the letter.

PT

As he scurried off to get my letter, I sat there thinking about all that he said and much more about what he didn't.  This is soooo not good.  I used to do pretty well in world geography.  Last time I checked, Brasilia was a city in Brazil.  As to countries... there was Brazil, Argentina, Colombia, Bolivia, and a couple more others, maybe three.  Anyway, I do know that Brasilia was not one of them.  Oh, yeah, I just remembered Peru is there, too...  And... ummmm... never mind.

Lilith bless me?  Lilith...  The only thing I recall about Lilith is that traveling woman's music festival.  I guess She's doing a lot better around here than back home.

Those weren't my main problems, though.  I came in here to sell a gold coin and now someone wants to loan me drug money and help me to buy the drugs.  Senor Esteban really is a full-service banker.

As he came back with my letter, I realized that I needed to set things a little more straight than they were at the moment.  Being a cocaine mule just wasn't on my to do list.

Senor Esteban, your offer of assistance in this matter is generous and greatly appreciated, but it could be that perhaps I have another business venture in mind, maybe something even more profitable in the long run.  Would this letter also serve for that?  I paused, then smiled.  Also, there is the tiny matter of some walking around money until these matters can be formalized...

He's a little surprised, but not greatly perturbed by your plan to use the money elsewise.

"Its good to see an American show some initiative.  I think all those trust funds are wonderful for you, but perhaps they make you all just a little bit less ambitious.  No offense meant, for if I was born with a trust fund, I would not work nearly so hard either."

"Walking around money. Well, let me advance you two thousand in traveller's checks, if that is okay, senorita?"

He hands you the letter, and the cheques.  As you finish, you note that he has a globe of the world behind his desk in the inbuilt wall cabinet of his well-apointed office.  It looks a little odd from fifteen feet away...

PT

As you mentioned, the DEA tries to make things difficult for individuals wishing to practice free trade.  I take the traveller's checks and the letter.  Thank you, Senor Esteban.  If it is acceptable, I will meet you after lunch on Monday to finalize the paperwork.  I stand and offer my hand to him.

After the handshake to seal the deal, I just happen to look over his shoulder.  Oh, you have a globe.  Would you mind if I were to take a look at it?  I love globes.  They are just so civilized.  I'd like a close look at a world atlas, but this globe will have to do for a start.

"Excellente, Senorita' Reynolds."  He then spins his chair, and brings back the globe.  Immediately you feel a sinking sensation as you study the brass gilt encrusted globe.

South America is the size of Asia.  North America is distorted as well.  Florida is the size of California, and the Great Plains and the Rocky Mountains have shrunk to compensate.

Spinning the globe you see it gets worse. Africa is the size of Western Europe. Europe seems slightly larger with Switzerland almost as big as Germany.  Russia is gravely shrunken, and China is small, radically diminished.  Malaysia, Japan, and the rest of SE Asia are tiny spots.  Singapore is larger than Malaysia.  Tokyo completely covers one island of Japan.

Going back to Brasilia which seems to cover the gigantic SA continent, you note that it shares the land along with Peru, Venezuela, and four other countries.  You also note that Buenos Aires is the largest city in the world, covering roughly the same land mass as Tokyo, London and Washington DC combined, or the same space that a more sane map would assign to Ohio.

pt

I am soooo not home.  This place is more alien than landing on a spaceship in flight.  As I look at this, I find it hard to believe that it is the world on which we are standing.  I know that it is just a round map, but still...  I laughed self-consiously.  You must think me a bit silly, gushing over a globe like this.  I took a deep breath to compose myself.  I had just come way too close to losing it.  Thank you for sharing your globe with me, Senor Esteban.  I will see you on Monday.  Perhaps, you could suggest a reasonable place to stay?

As I walked down the street, checks and letter stashed in my beltpack, I decided to get someplace to use as a base.  I needed to get some newspapers and magazines to get a feel for the culture and the rules as well.  My rumbling stomach reminded me that food would also be a good thing to add to my shopping list.  I'm a good detective.  It looks like I still have a client, me.

I would need a way to raise cash really soon.  Maybe I could sell some of my future tech items to the local megacorps.  I thought about what I had to sell that wouldn't affect the culture too badly.  My growling tummy gave me an idea.  I wondered if this place had selfheating mealpacks yet.  I could sell a few for them to reverse-engineer and recreate.

He's staring at you a little concerned, but when you ask him where to stay he stops that, and pulls out a pamphlet, and gives it to you.

It lists over a dozen hotels and resorts in all price ranges from the merely high to the astronomical.

"Lilith bless you in your new venture."  He sketches out an "L" shape with his left hand.  You leave, and walk back out into the blasting heat.

You drop about ten dollars for magazines in a magazine only store, and buy a couple different newspapers from a passing vendor on a bicycle with a huge box of badly painted plywood that is green in color, and rests in front of him on the front wheel.

A restauraunt up the street is vaguely familiar, and then it snaps back to you.

McDonalds...how long it has been since you've seen one of those?  A bizarre sense of dislocation comes and goes, and you find yourself walking into the restauraunt which is filled with parents and little children playing.

It looks like home...

PT

I decided to check out one of the merely high priced hotel options after lunch.  My budget might not allow the selection of anything better.

In the world I was used to, Argentina exported a lot of beef.  I wondered if Brasilia beef was as good.  I hoped that some of my little nanobuddies functioned as artery scrubbers.  It was about time to wrap myself around a double quarter-pounder with cheese, a supersized order of fries, and a large chocolate milk shake.  Then, I considered how hard I worked to get back into this physical condition.  Maybe I'd just have a salad and an iced tea.

I didn't eat at Mickey D's a lot before, but every so often, I did have to answer the call of a ten pack of McNuggets slathered with honey-mustard sauce.  I was about to explore my new home in an old way.  I wondered momentarily what the happy meal toys were for this week.

You enjoy your meal at McDonalds.  The happy meal toys?  Good drug runners vs. Evil DEA agents...

The Sheraton Hotel is about five blocks from the beach, and several miles from downtown, but it looks nice, if not luxurious.  And the bill is only mildly extortionate.  It helps that dollars are worth twice the local currency of pesos.

You get checked in to your suite with a kitchennette, and king-sized bed, and jacuzzi, and full service cable tv.

The manager asks if you are going to be staying for your whole vacation, because if so, he can offer you a better rate, and free lunches to go with the free breakfast.

The room is not glamorous, but it is serviceable, and clean, and well-kept up.  And the Olympic swimming pool fifteen stories below your balcony looks pretty nice as well.

PT
OOC: So what did you decide to have for lunch? :)

I decided to split the difference between being really good or bad.  I had a Big Mac and an iced tea.  They both tasted like they did before.  I guess that some things are universal.

I let the hotel manager know that the Sheraton would be my home while on holiday.  I'm not cheap, but who would want to turn down free meals and a lower room rate?

I settled in to read about my new home.  First, I read the newspapers, front to back.  I paid special interest to subjects like crime, politics, entertainment, and what was on sale at the grocery, sporting, and department stores.  Next, I started on the magazines.  I started off with the news mags, then the sports one, and finished up with the entertainment issue.  I managed to kill both the afternoon and my eyeballs at the same time, but I knew a lot more about this place than I did.

The Times of Buenas Aires is a solid respectable, and dry paper.  The Velasquaz Voice is a partisan political paper supporting the Presidential Party of El Presidente.  The Brasilia Nuevo is a popular news mag.  Weekly Review is a political analysis and partisan mag that supports the El Presidente.  Fastball is a sports mag.  Fashion Forward is a fashion mag for young women with a lot of entertainment for everyone.

You read them all, and by the end your eyeballs are aching.

1) El Presidente Velasquaz is everywhere. There are three teams in the National Football (soccer) League named for him. There are a number of products, a lot of them, that are associated with him in some way.  He is mentioned at least once on every page of every newspaper and magazine.

2) He is well-respected, indeed beloved, it seems.  Weekly Review got upset because his approval ratings recently dipped to a two year low of 85% Strongly Approve.  Some say this is because he let his harem of fifty rise beyond that traditional limit to fifty-one.

3)Fashion Forward thinks he has superhuman powers, and has a "How to be attractive enough to become a harem girl for El Presidente" advice article.  It also has pictures of him, and his family.  They all look handsome, dynamic, and have that movie star quality about them.

4)Unless they are totally delusional, the most powerful leader in teh world is El Presidente. The American President runs a powerful second, but most people think he is also the puppet of the evil DEA.  However, the El Presidente eschews nuclear weapons while the Americans don't.

5)You find adds for everything but cocaine.  They openly sell the devices needed to make use of it.

6)Other than that, you find most of what you would expect in a prosperous twenty-first century society that is South American with a lot of American tourists.  You think your self-heating packs would go over quite well.

7)The trust funds page seems odd. If you are reading it right, every American has a trust fund worth ten thousand dollars a month minimum (and some much higher) given to them when they are born by their devoted relatives.

PT

I took a break in my reading to do a little unpacking.  As I placed my equipment and clothing in the drawers, I realized that I was still wearing my mud washed clothing from the last incarnation.  I laid out my comfort clothes, blue jeans, a black T-shirt, crosstrainers.  Then, I took a long, hot shower.  I felt recharged and ready to go on with my next step.  I put on the clean clothing and decided that it's time to do a little basic fieldwork.  Well, that and I was getting hungry again.  I went downstairs to the front desk to get the location of a nearby grocery store.  I didn't take the laser, though.

The desk clerk was very helpful.  It's amazing what a tight t-shirt and a few hair tosses can do to motivate employees.  I had two goals in mind.  One, I wanted to get the names of the largest food companies who packaged ready to eat meals.  Two was to get some of those meals to take back for dinners and snacks.

"The largest food companies for TV dinners. Dvega, Velasquaz Roman-owned by the second son of El Presidente, and Sampson are the biggest.  You can find all of them in the Granaco store."  He gives you a nearby location.

You think it must be wrong after a few turns leads you into what looks like housing, but another turn up Esmerelda Via, and you see an open garage door, and people walking up in the narrow street to the proprieteress who is up front behind a plastic crate and dented wooden door desk.

Bemused, you note that it is neat, and clean, and that freezers line the walls of the garage, and in the center shelves are filled with cans, and that baskets of fresh fruits fill the short drive way.  To the left of the driveway is a small pile of bricks. Perhaps ten.  Atop the house, it looks like a partial second story is being added.

PT

As I look at the store, I realize that shopping in a foreign country could be interesting.  I look at the pictures on the labels to try to get an idea of what is in the cans.  I select several cans, hoping that they indeed do contain stew, chili, and the other items pictured.  I also hope to teach myself a little "survival" Spanish by learning the names of different foods, as well as greetings and other common phrases.

I wasn't sure about how they did business at the little store, so I watched how others did their transactions before I took my armload of cans to the woman at the plastic crate.  It went well, I think.  I probably only paid twice what my cans were worth.  Not a bad deal, since I wasn't actually using my money to pay for it.

I would need some help in pulling this deal off.  Senor Esteban seemed like a good guy.  Maybe I could convince him to help me.  He might have contacts who could bring the major food packagers together for an auction.  I would have to convince him somehow that I was the real deal.  Maybe I could...

I was thinking along those lines when I realized that I had been spending too much time on my plans and not quite enough on my navigation.  I must have made a wrong turn somewhere.  I didn't remember this area.  It was also starting to get dark.  This was soooo not good.

Looking up and down the darkened street, its all too easy for you to imagine thugs hiding in the plentiful shadows made prominent by the vastnesses between the feeble electric lamps of this poor section of town.

But then a bit of cheer, you see and hear what is obviously military or police trotting down the street in your direction.  You get closer, and realized they have combat vests on, and weapons out.

Its the DEA you realize after seeing a flash of light hit a black ballcap.  There are about ten of them.

PT

I couldn't help but remember the McDonalds happy meal toys.  They were the Good drug runners vs. the Evil DEA agents.  Now, there were ten DEA types with combat vests and weapons running toward my location.  I decided to ease back into the shadows and try really hard to not be noticed.

You fade into the black shadows at the mouth of an alley, and then slow as you can't see your feet.  Hands on your shoulders draw you back even as you jerk in surprise and fear.

Soon, you're fifteen feet deeper into the alley than you planned.  And you can see the DEA agents jog-trotting by even as you're surrounded by men in trenchcoats.

"Shhhh, pretty lady. Bad men are about." A very quiet voice whispers.

PT

Yeah, and I know where to find a bunch of them wearing trench coats.  If those were the Evil DEA Agents, were these the Good Drug Runners?  Either way, I wasn't going to make a move on the potential bad guys until the confirmed bad guys were gone.

I whisper.  Who are you?

"I am Franco de Salvador, and while it is indeed a pleasure to meet you, perhaps we can exchange phone numbers later?"

You roll your eyes, and wait for a few minutes.  But it seems the DEA are not leaving the area.  Instead, they are pounding on doors, and getting homeowners up, and asking where the drug dealers are.  When one pajama clad man is not helpful, they slug him in the stomach, and dump him down his flight of four steps.

Weird thing is you recognize the DEA agent in charge. "Charlie" May Hopper was always a snoopy, pain in the neck, with a tendency to spread gossip, and make it more juicy as she did so.

PT

I palmed my snapstick as I waited for this world's version of my worst associate from before to go away.  I really hated that bitch.  Once, she thought I was withholding information on one of her investigations.  I wasn't, but she tried to have my PI ticket and CCW pulled anyway, just because she thought she could.  I had to spend money which I couldn't afford to pay for a lawyer for a hearing on a trumped up charge.  During that time, I also lost business by not having a valid license.  When it was over, all she whispered was.  "Next time, I'll plant better evidence."  Did I mention just how much I hated that hawk nosed, mousy haired, flat-chested, little waste of space?

After ten more minutes of 'agressive questioning' of various 'local criminal elements', your nemeses starts yelling at her people for being slow, and messing things up.  Five more minutes of listening to her screech, even though as far as you can tell, her people were doing exactly what she told them to, and then everyone starts off at a jog-trot.

One other difference...apparently this one is in pretty good physical shape.

Once they are gone, about half those waiting with you go out and comfort the wounded, and the other half turn to you, and escorts you onto the street.

"I am Franco, this is Liln, Martin, and Eduardo. We have a wide variety of cokes we can sell you, all the way from the cheapest to the finest in the city.  Even President Velasquaz would be happy with our best."

He grins at you with a dashing smile.  If you had met him in your old world, you would have pegged him for a taxi cab driver, or a waiter, or a city worker, but not a drug dealer.  There is genuine warmth in his smile instead of the cold-eyed menace you are used to from drug dealers.

PT

I smile at them as I get back to the street.  It is a pleasure to meet all of you.  I'm afraid that I don't know anything about these cokes you sell.  I'm ummm... really new in town.  I was getting a few groceries and I got lost.  I was still holding my snapstick.  It was the least threatening and most quiet of the weapons on my harness.

I looked at Franco.  I wondered what he had under the trenchcoat.  (Not that far under, just any firearms and blades.)  As my way of rewarding you for saving me from the DEA, would you all join me for dinner?  I'm not what you would call rich, but I would like to take you all out to a good restaurant.  I smiled again.  And, I must confess to having an ulterior motive.  I don't know any restaurants in Buenos Aires.  I'm hoping that I like the one you select.

They chatter very quickly among themselves.

"Very well, we take you to our favorite restauraunt. Authentic Brasilian food. The best.  We weren't making any money anyways."

You walk with them about ten blocks away, and that gives you plenty of time to realize that Franco is not armed.

You walk into a dimly lit room filled with native Brasilians, and you're the only American here. Everyone turns and stares at you, and then the group you're with vouches for you, and people smile and wave as you find a large wooden table to sit down at. Soon, plates of food are being hustled out to you and your group by the owner, "Mama" Sanchez.

Its good, but very different from McDonalds.  The tamales are steaming hot, and wrapped in corn husks, and the rest is obviously freshly made, and not out of a can.  The steak is nice too, although eating chips and salsa and a steak seems kind of odd.

A hush falls over the room, and the TV up at the bar is turned up.  A handsome elderly man, perfectly dressed, begins to speak in Brasialian.  Even not in your native language, you can tell he has charisma.  He reminds you of Ronald Reagan at the height of his powers.  A mixture of grandfatherly charm and authority with a deft joke ready at a moment's notice.  As the news conference ends, you hear applause fill the room.

PT

I returned my snapstick to its holster as we walked.  These guys weren't a threat after all...

...except to my waistline.  The food was excellent.  I asked Martin to tell "Mama" Sanchez that this was the best meal I have eaten for a very long time.  I would have to put in some seriously extra gym time if I kept eating here.

The guy on the screen was obviously President Velasquaz.  I had seen his picture many times in the magazines.  I scanned the room, observing the patrons staring intently at the screen.  I don't think a Victoria's Secret halftime show at the Super Bowl would have the guys at my table staring any harder at the screen.

After the speech, I commented.  President Velasquaz is a very magnetic person.  I don't speak Sp... Brasilian.  What did he say?  I also waited for the chance to ask why the DEA invaded homes and assaulted innocents in Buenos Aires.

"It used to be called Spanish, back in the old days before Brasilia became the world's most important country, no offense to your country which is great as well."  Franco says with a twinge of apology at the end.

Mama Sanchez comes out, and tells you to come by anytime.

"You too skinny, we put some meat on your bones."

Franco continues after Mama Sanchez takes up the plates, and as a waiter comes around with cups of sweet expresso.

"El Presidente spoke of efforts to restrict the actions of the DEA but in a very roundabout fashion making many jokes, and invited the American President Gore down here for a summit meeting on ways to resolve the tensions between our two nations. I mean no one here wants a fight or even trade sanctions with you. Your tourists are the lifeblood of our economy.  Thats why most of us learn Brasilian and American in our schools.
He also said that the attack on his limosine was foiled by brave security officers, and that in any event he had not been in that limosine as it was being driven to be repaired."

PT

The expresso was delicious.  I could have really used this stuff on more than a few stake-outs.

Franco, you have said nothing to cause offense.  You have a leader with vision who can see the future.  There is nothing wrong with that.  Vacation was over.  It was time to go back to work.  I could feel the gears shifting back into detective mode.  I doubted these guys had any connection, but they could provide background.  I thought everyone loved Brasilia's leader.  Who would want to kill your El Presidente?  The DEA?  Do you have any rebel factions in Brasilia?

"Yes, yes, everyone loves El Presidente. Even the Minority Party leader likes him.  But there are a few bad elements...madmen too..."  Franco says, and then everyone trots out their favorite villains.

"Sendero Luminoso. Granted its not Peru, but he has stopped them from hiding in Brasilia to raid Peru."

"People's Popular Movement. Communists. Unlike the Shining Path, they say everyone would have a color tv, big screen.  The Path just wants to get rid of tv altogether."

"Anti-Lilithians. Dark minds bent on worshipping the Dark Between the Worlds. Engage in all sorts of vile acts."

"There was theat man who claimed the electric wires controlled his brain, and he did the will of the electron. Or something. Took a shot at El Presidente two years ago. But he used a bb gun, so they let him go, I think."

"Henry Cooper's Clean Cut group. He's a rogue DEA agent who goes around chopping off dealer's fingers. Everyone thinks the DEA supports him even though they deny it."

All the groups they list seem rather small in influence and number, if they even exist.

PT

These groups sounded as if they were a few pennies short of a dollar.  But then, that guy who shot Ronnie Ray-gun, whats-his-name with the hots for Jodie Foster, also wasn't what anyone would call a criminal mastermind.  I'm sure that El Presidente has more than enough people keeping an eye on him.  I was just wondering.  That's all.  I wouldn't want these guys to think that I was anything except a lost traveller.  OK, maybe a well armed lost traveller.

I admit that I'm not very good at politics and stuff like that.  I probably couldn't name one politician from home, other than President Gore.  I wondered for a moment who Gore ran against.  I wondered who would be capable of making Gore look like a good choice for President.

And they accept your change of topic, and kick back, and talk to each other as they sit back and watch TV, and chat about sports, and about drug shipments.

Mama Sanchez changes the TV from soccer to the American President's press conference in your honor.  Tipper Gore is not nearly as charismatic as El Presidente, but she does a good job, although you do get the impression that she's not as free to make up her mind as the ones back in your world.  She consults with several others during the conference to ask for notes.

She basically says that they will think about this generous offer, and they wish President Velasquaz would do more to combat the scourge of cocaine.

PT
OOC: Heh, you didn't think I was going to have the Tin Woodsman up there, did you? Heh.

Tipper?  I blinked a couple of times in disbelief.  I had somehow landed on a moving starship in some future time.  I had battled a bioengineered supersoldier with the help of a barbarian swordsman and his giant wolf and sort of won.  But this was just too much to comprehend.  Tipper Gore as President.  I took a couple of deep breaths to steady myself.

Maybe focusing of something else might help.    Franco, I noticed that some people carry guns while others do not.  Are there any guidelines or laws for carrying weapons?  I seriously doubted that my CCW was valid here.

"Some people don't have the money.  Also some people don't feel the need.  Me, I do it sometimes, and sometimes not. If I think the DEA will be out in force, I don't carry because it gives them an excuse to shoot you.  Laws? Well, I think maybe bad criminals, murderders, you know malo hombres could not, and children can't, but otherwise, you can."

He pulls his lip.

"Guidelines. Well, you shoot someone, you'd better have a good reason. And you're responsible even if it was a mistake.  But really, we are mostly a pretty laid back people, unless you know, you really try to make us mad. But you have to try hard."

Then he hushes you as a stock market report comes on.  You don't understand until he says two things.

"Stocks are up again, and so we should expect 5% more tourists than this time last year.  Also, the street prices for recreational chemicals that seem to prevail are..."

He rattles off a long list of numbers that if you understand right seem moderate for cocaine.  Your friends are taking notes so they know what to charge.

And then the TV goes to a worship song with a printed in both languages message.

"See you in Temple tommorrow. Blessings of Lilith upon you all.--The Presidente."

PT

It was about time to call it a night.  I didn't know if dying and waking up on a different world counted, but it was still a long day.  Guys, I have had a great meal and some wonderful dinner companions.  I'm not really used to this time zone yet, and I'm more than a bit tired.  If you don't mind, I should be getting back to my hotel.  Before I go, Franco, I have something to ask you.  I don't want to seem like a barbarian, but I've never been to a Lilith Temple before.  If you go, would you take me there tomorrow?  I'll need you to help me with figuring out the details.

He raises an eyebrow, and then says...

"Ah, you are more used to the Reformers up north. Here we worship in the High Temple. I will pick you up. I will be wearing my suit and tie."

Arrangements are made, and you are dropped off at your hotel, and the next morning Franco shows up to pick you up on his bright red moped.  He shows you how to climb on, whether side saddle or astride, and then you buzz off sedately with a flock of other brightly colored mopeds, bicyles and walkers, with the occasional dark colored limosine driving at walking speed through the crowds.

The most amusing part of the morning drive in the brilliant light is seeing the gents go chase down the ladies hats which get blown off. At any one moment, at least three guys are chasing down separate hats.

PT

Riding on the back of Franco's moped, I felt absolutely naked without my weapon harness.  I did have a can of pepper spray in my waistpack, but that didn't mean that I felt good about leaving my ranged stuff behind.

I also didn't feel good about my choice of clothes.  Not having the traditional little black dress and some matching pumps to fall back on, I was making do with black jeans, a dark blue T-shirt, and black crosstrainers.  I really needed to do some shopping.

I was really looking forward to this Lilith thing.  I was a little worried about going last night.  Then, I decided that as long as this 'serial reincarnation' thing kept working, I'd go everyplace I wanted and do what I wanted.  The other option was hiding out somewhere in a rented room.  That would be soooo not my style.  Besides, riding behind Franco was kind of fun.

OOC:  How much did dinner at Mama's for all of us cost me?

You walk into the Temple of Lilith on Escondido Avenue along with about a thousand other people.  The priest and priestess join together in a sonorous prayer asking for blessing, and thanking Lilith for creating the world out of her love.

They go on to pray for the nation, and President Velasquaz, and that Lilith will be happy in all she sees.

Then there are small prayer groups as about ten people near you gather in a clump (as all over the chapel is being done), and mention various problems they are suffering with, and everyone who wants to prays in a circle for the problems which range from job searches to health worries to hopes that the local football team will succeed in the city tournameant.

After that, a number of songs are sung, and then a sermon which is a mixture of doctrine on how Lilith created the world, and application of these principles to your life.

After that an offering is taken as a small box is passed up and down the aisles for people to put money in.

And then cups of milk are passed around for all who wish to "drink of Lilith's grace."

And then the service ends, and people all about you are introducing themselves,a nd chatting with you, and offering to take you out to lunch....

Looking back on it, you'd say Lilith is depicted as a young woman.  She is a singular deity, but she has family which are not divine, but have powers.  Its not clear if her family are saints or angels.  Her primary motivation is love, but she is capable of sudden fury, although she is also capable of forgiving.  But the offender had better repent after the first offense, or they are given to the Dark Between the Worlds to allow themselves to be what they already are inside.  Thats as much as you pick up in your first service.

PT

PT

I passed on the milk.  It's not that I'm lactose intollerent, I just didn't trust them to not have laced the stuff with some type of happy juice varient of rohipnol.  I remembered a bumper sticker on the back of a car from before.  It read something like...  "It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you."

I also passed on lunch.  I was still looking for good places to have dinner, but I didn't want to spend the time either explaining a belief I don't hold or listening to an hour long commercial for Lilith.  I went to a service.  I had an idea of who She was.  She had an idea of who I was.  I figured to leave it at that.

What I needed to do was go shopping for something presentable for transacting business.  And if I was lucky, maybe I could find the local variation of the little black dress.

Most of the shops are closed, but some of the more obviously touristy ones near the beach are still open.  So you can spend a bit more than you would like, and get a business suit complete with briefcase, cel phone, calculator, notepads, gold fountain pens, and business cards...

The little black dress can be had for anywhere from twenty bucks to five hundred bucks depending on just how nice you want it, and how famous a name you want on it.

The dinner last night cost you sixty pesos, or thirty bucks.

PT

I was a little puzzled by what to put on the business cards.  Finially, I settled on something really appropriately generic.

Miss T. (Misty) Reynolds
Private Consultant

I did manage to find the perfect business suit with all the accessories.  In fact, I found two which I really loved.  I bought the green tweed and chalkstripe suits.  I made sure that the jackets were cut full enough to hide a shoulder holster.
http://www.bananarepublic.com/...category.do?cid=5013

I was lucky because they also had the exact dress I was looking to add to my wardrobe.
http://www.bananarepublic.com/...=5023&pid=338218

I also found a Brasilian/English phrasebook.  While it was designed for tourists, it would give me an idea of how to say some basic words and phrases.  With my shopping done, I headed back to the hotel to put my purchases away.

I checked at the front desk to see if this place had laundry service and what times the bar and the restaurant were open.  I also asked, not really expecting any positive response, if I had received any messages.

There are no messages, but yes, there is laundry service, and the bar opens at ten in the morning, and closes at two at night.  The restauraunt is open from eight to eight.

You have a fine time that night, and the next day, you get dressed up sharp, and go take a taxi to visit Senor Esteban.  He lets you in, and nods approvingly.

"I see you are now looking professional. Committed. Serious. This is good. Very good. I sense, with my pschyic powers that you have come to ask me something."  He wiggles his fingers and pulls an extravagantly odd face.  Then he laughs.

"Please, have some chocolate. And ask your questions."  A secretary comes in bringing coffee for the both of you.

PT

I accept both the coffee and the chocolate.  My concept of dressing for this meeting included a shoulder holster containing a 9mm Glock 17C on the left and two loaded 17 round mags on the right.  I had to let the shoulder harness out a couple of notches.  I hadn't worn it for a while, not since I started my exercise routines.

After a few minutes of exchanging light conversation over the excellent coffee and chocolate, I got down to business.  Senor Esteban, your psychc powers are still intact.  I do have something important which I would like you to do.  I would like you to set up a meeting here in one of your conference rooms with high level representives from each of these food processing companies, Dvega, Velasquaz Roman which I believe is owned by the second son of El Presidente, and Sampson.  I am willing to demonstrate, then auction off a radical new way of food packaging to the highest bidder.  I had practiced saying that more than a few times yesterday in my room to make sure that I got it right.  I took another sip of coffee looking at Senor Esteban over the rim of my cup.

"Yes, my good friend, Roman Velasquaz is coming by the bank later today to arrange a loan of a few million pesos, a small deal for him, but a large deal for me. Would you be ready to show your presentation at two o'clock? I'm sure I could get some upper level managers as well from the other companies at that time.  But, you will have at best fifteen minutes, unless you dazzle them.  These are very important men."

He gestures you to rise, and leads you down the hall to a conference room.  There's a projector, a rosewood table, and a dozen executive chairs, and a bar along the wall.

"I could have one of my secretaries act as your assistant, if you like."

PT
And a very nice GE roll for you. A five.

This was better than I had hoped.  Fifteen minutes will be fine.  I will need to establish a business account under the name of Misty Reynolds.  I wish to use that name on this business account to keep it separate from my New York transactions.  I smiled at Senor Esteban.  If this works as well as it should, I won't need the loan after all, and may soon have someone depositing a great deal of money into the account

I was glad that I had loaded extra mealpacks into my bag before setting out to the village.  It was time to go get them and then make a fortune.  If you will excuse me, Senor.  I have a few preparations to make for this afternoon's meeting.

A few hours later you are waiting in the conference room as your secretary has just finished putting out coffee cups, and Danishes, and a small bowl of nuts for each of the guests, and the trio arrives.

A senior vice president from Dvega named Marco Elizondo, a vp from Sampson named Lilt Fortin, and a man you'd recognize even on the street since he has a strong family resemblance to El Presidente, "Roman" Velasquaz, so-called because he has a really prominent Roman nose.  Other than that flaw he is obviously outclassing his competitors in wit and clothing style, although all of them are tough businessmen.

"Greetings, everyone. I believe that my new American friend has an interesing proposal for you.  It will take just a few minutes of your time, and you can have coffee as you wait.  I do this in part because of El Presidente's directive to try to seek a more diversified balance for our economy than just tourism."

The men nod, and with sharp eyes sit down, weighing you in their minds.

"Please, begin, Miss Reynolds, our host has been singing your praises. You have us curious."  Roman says with a courtly gesture.

PT

I took a deep breath.  I was a little nervous earlier, but then I considered that the worst thing they could do was say no.  I took a deep breath.

First, I'd like to thank Senor Esteban for all of his assistance in making this presentation possible.  I would also like to thank you all of you in advance for attending this presentation on such short notice.  I know that you are all quite busy, so I will waste as little of your time as possible.

I placed my briefcase on the table, but I didn't open it just yet.  What two things do hikers, soldiers, workers, and travellers have in common?  I gave them a moment to consider, then continued.  I believe that they all get hungry and they may not have the oppotunity to get a hot meal.  One of you will get the chance to be able to satisfy those people's appitites for a hot meal no matter how far they are from a stove.

I popped open my briefcase and removed a self-heating entree.  I placed it on the table for all to see.    I would like to demonstrate a brand new type of packaging for you.  Gentlemen, you are looking at a self heating food container.  I have several of these which I will sell to the highest bidder.  I do not have the designs on how to make them, but I'm sure that the technical people from the winning company can reverse-engineer all of the secrets from these little containers.

Please take a look at the package and then pass it to the next person.  I handed it to the man on my left.  Notice that the package is room temperature at the moment.  In a few moments, we will see how the packaging functions.  I waited a moment as they looked at the package, then continued.

Imagine a backpacker.  He has been hiking all day and he is tired.  He wants a hot meal but he is too tired to build a campfire.  He reaches into his pack for a self-heat.  Picture a soldier, he has just come out of a fierce battle.  What he needs most is some hot food to keep going.  He reached into his combat pack for a self heat.  And what about the humanitarian aspect?  How much good would several trucks of self heats do when taken into the heart of a natural disaster to aid the victims of a storm or an earthquake.  The survivors would get a hot meal and a chance to see a better life ahead.

When they've all had a chance to examine the package, I placed it on the table in front of Senor Velasquaz.  Senor, would you please read the packaging for the operating instructions, then as everyone gathers around, would you please activate the packaging?  I stepped back to allow the others to gather around.

They listen closely, and keenly examine your product, reading all the data lines on the outside.

"For Bethany System Mission. Roast beef and mushroom gravy/candied carrots/baked potato with sour cream, chives, butter, bacon. Made in Stuttgart System, Temilinka Moon, Fors Settlement,  Cranshaw Factory/ Good until November 1204. Tasty Goodness Hot Meal Pak from Cranshaw."  Plus a great number of numbers.

"I have never heard of a Cranshaw Company.  And what is Stuttgart or Bethany System?" Roman Velasquaz asks you even as he opens up the container.  The watching execs ooh and ahh over the technology.

"Very impressive. It would be more valuable if we knew there were not any legal entanglements that would slow down our production."

Luckily, the date line 'Nov 1204' didn't grab their eye...
pt

Crap.  Fix it girlfriend.  Gentlemen, you are from the three largest food production corporations in the world.  If there was anything even remotely like this on the planet, wouldn't at least one of you have heard a glimmer of it?  I smiled.  Please ignore the production details on the outside.  The people who made these up for me have a great sense of humor.  There is no Bethany or Stuttgart System.  Crenshaw is a composite of the names of the package designers.  I made the mistake of telling very creative and slightly demented friends to make it look futuristic.  There is nothing else like this packaging.

It's time to take a gamble.  Senor Esteban, you have seen this demonstration.  Would you please do a computer search to look for packaging patents?

I turned my attention back to the food company reps.  While we wait, would you please activate the container, Senor Velasquaz?  I think I had their attention.

They open the container, and are impressed with the heat, and the food. Senor Velasquaz gives you a close look studying you, as do the others.  A look of shock hits his face, and then he covers it up with a broad smile.

He relaxes, but remains attentive while the others give Senor Esteban a worried look as he directs several clerks to do a search. Despite their best efforts, they come up with nothing.

"It is as you say, there are no patents on this."  Senor Esteban says, miming a wiping of his brow of sweat behind the execs' backs.

"Of course not." Senor Velasquaz says. "My company is interested. I think we all are. Do you mind if we have fourty-eight hours while we investigate?"  The others look at you wondering what you will do.

PT

I could do no less than give you all some time to put together an offer.  After all, I'm sure that my presentation came as quite a surprise.  I smiled, then placed five more self-heats on the table from my briefcase.

Senor Esteban, I would like to rent a safe deposit box to store these self-heats.  I certainly wouldn't anything to happen to them.  Shall we say, two in the afternoon on Wednesday?  Would here be acceptable, Senor Esteban?  I picked up my empty entree container and all the things which came from the package, rewrapped it all in an inside-out meal pack wrapper, and replaced it in my briefcase.

In my time, banks videotaped everything for security reasons.  I wondered if Senor Esteban videotaped the meeting.  I would have to ask him about that.  If I wasn't having a blond moment, I would have taped it myself.  I also wanted his opinions and his thoughts about the meeting.

Everything is set up for your safe deposit box, and you're talking to Senor Esteban when a young lady in a pencil skirt comes in.  He's apologizing for not making a video of the demo.

"Ms. Reynolds, I am the private secretary for Mr. Roman Velasquaz. He wonders if you would be interested in eating dinner at the Presidential Palace at six p.m.  If you are, please go the Third Avenue Gate at an appropriate time."

She pauses to see if you have any reply, and then leaves to go back to her boss.

pt

Well, I have to have dinner somewhere, why not at the Palace?  I can think of several reasons.  Please relay this to your employer...  I would love to dine with Mr. Velasquaz, but dining with him might lead others to the unfair conclusion that I am giving him an advantage in this transaction.  Please convey my regrets.  I wonder how often he gets turned down.  I doubt that it happen a lot.

After she leaves, I speak with Senor Esteban. You know these individuals far better than I.  What would be a reasonable price to ask for this innovation?  Also, what do you think an appropriate brokerage fee would be for the person setting up a transaction of this magnitude?  I smiled.  I may be an American, but do you think me so rude as to not find a way to thank the man who put all of this together in such a short time?

I decided that it would be a good idea to fort up in my hotel room as much as possible for the next couple of days.  I had some canned goods.  Water wasn't a problem.  It would be Levis and full weapon harness for any walking around.

There was something about the Mr. Velasquaz which botheres me.  I can't lock it down exactly, but he wasn't as nervous about this deal as the other two.  Maybe they were concerned about his Royal influence affecting the deal.  Maybe the two they knew that could be outbid.  Maybe they know more than I did about a possible penchant of his for dealing unfairly.  Whatever it was which set them off, I've learned to trust my instincts.

Senor Esteban replies.
"I am not familiar, or greatly so, but I would think somewhere between a million and ten million US dollars.  But one can never tell. Ah, ten percent is customary."

He bows and thanks you for your kindness.

You spend the day twitching in your hotel room with every slammed door having you reaching for your gun.  Finally, not able to take it anymore, you go down to dinner.

The food is good, but the tension makes it taste poor.  A man is walking directly up to you.  He's young, and not that well dressed.

PT

I took a deep breath and let it out.  I've been on the bullseye before, this is nothing new.  Why am I so jumpy?  Maybe it was the possibility of finially making the big score.  I figured that if I converted a chunk of the money to gemstones, I could go to my next world with enough convertable merchandise to not have to worry about just getting by for living expenses.  Then again, maybe I'm still a little unnerved by this serial reincarnation concept.

The kid did look out of place.  Out of place is sooo not a good thing.  This wasn't Trump Palace, but he still looked wrong.  If he makes a move for a weapon, I will, too, and I know my glock is locked and loaded.  If not, maybe he is here to bring me a message.  Maybe I should get ready for a nonlethal response.  I slipped my snapstick into my hand and waited for the kid to get closer.

With your snapstick in hand, you decide the young man reeks with arrogance.  He comes up to you, sneers, and sits down across from you at the table.  Then he leans forward.

"Hello, running dog lackey of the bourgeiouse.  You may notice..." he waves at each of the exterior doors where someone steps in. "My comrades. They are armed with Molotov cocktails.  Outside the restauraunt, this haven of imperialist decadence..."

By this point he practically spraying his words, he's so ragingly mad, although he manages a mocking smile.

"There are men with automatic weapons prepared to spray the walls of this restauraunt, and kill all the filthy bourgeiouse in here.  I will die a martyr to the People.  Either that, or put on this blindfold."

He lays a black cloth folded up on the table, and laughs at you.

PT

I recognize a contract murder when I see it.  This one is dressed in a revolutionary costume, but it is still a hit.  I haven't done anything to attract the attention of any rebel factions, yet this skel moved right in on me.  Someone wants to save several milion dollars in getting the self-heat packages.  Let's see how far these goons want to push it.

Using my closed snapstick as a pointer, I wave it around expansively as I tell this goon using my best Southern accent, All of this for lil' ol' me?  Sugar, ahm soo flattered by all this attention.  As the snapstick points casually toward his throat, I add, As to this Martyr thing...  MAX  I triggered the snapstick to its full extention to nail this slug, then pushed backwards to tip my chair over and get out of any lines of fire.

"Gurk." He says softly as the snapstick impales him.  It retreats on command, and he begins to tip over on the side as you flip backwards.  There is a long pause under the table, and then as you share the space with a dead man, you hear a whipping noise.

And suddenly a wall of fire springs up in front of your table, and perhps on your table.

Two bullets crack out, and rock your table, knocking a plate off it to crack in front of you.  With superkeen senses, you note that exactly nine pieces of pasta hit the floor.  Discarding the irrelevant information, you....

PT

...replace the snapstick in its holster, pull my Glock, and begin to crawl under the tables to get to a better position.  I check automatically to insure that the safety is off.  I already know that there is a semi-jacketed 9mm round chambered.  If I can get off this bullseye, I plan on returning fire.

You get out from the billowing waves of heat from the fire, and under a table in the corner of the room.  The sprinklers have cut on, and are battling the blaze.  Smoke hangs heavy in the air.

Several shots were fired as you traversed the tables and booths, but nothing in last thirty seconds.  Maybe they fled, maybe they are lining you up, maybe they are just waiting....

PT

I pop up, looking for a target.  I know that if I don't see one in a second or two, to pop back down and move to another spot to try another shot.

You pop up, and look right into the face of someone looking your way. Fortunately the hard-eyed woman has her pistol pointed off to her right about ninety degrees away from her angle of vision.

You shoot her in the chest, and see her slam against the open glass door of the restauraunt, shattering it, and she fires one futile shot into the bar as she goes down.

The other assailant flees you think, from the slamming of the door, and the padding of feet outside.

With water dripping down your face, and smoke stinging your eyes, you...

PT

... make sure that the pistol packing woman is really down and out.  Once I'm sure that she is not a threat, I tell whoever is still there that I'm going up to my room for a few minutes and that I will be right back to talk to the police.

I'm headed to my room, Glock in hand, to make sure that my stuff is still there.  Anyone making a run at me also might want to make a run at my stuff.  Since I disrupted their plans, maybe I disrupted their timing as well and they were still there.

"The People will be revenged."  She snarls at you, and slumps dead.  You shout out to the barkeep who is just now rising from behind his massive bar, and head on up to your room.

The elevator seems to take an interminable amount of time which at first you put down to nerves, and then you realize it really is going slowly. Finally, about a minute later than it should be, the elevator arrives.

You burst out past a surprised elderly couple, and belt down the hallway to your room.  The door is hanging open.

PT

I step across from the doorway into a Weaver Combat Stance, ready to drop everyone inside who isn't wearing a maid's uniform.

You see the balcony door is open, and a shape behind the curtains. A male voice, young, comes from the balcony.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were up to something more serious than making an honest buck."

And then the person jumps off the balcony.

When you rush out there, you don't see a body.

PT

Crap!  Where did he go?  I look for some sign of where he went and how he got there.  I check for a rapelling line.  I look for jetpack scorchmarks.  I even sniff the air to see if there is any trace of something strange lingering.

And just what did he mean by "I'm sorry. I thought you were up to something more serious than making an honest buck."  Who was he, or more importantly, who was he working for and what was I supposed to be doing that they needed to take an interest?  I remembered an old movie and TV series called "TimeCop".  Was this what I ran into?

Not having any answers for my truckload of questions, I decided to check to see what, if anything, was missing.  Then, I would have to go downstairs to talk to the authorities.

Everything has been moved about, and examined, and it looks like your laser blaster and some of your other more exotic equipment was deliberately placed on your bed, on top of a new white sheet so that someone could take a quick photograph of them.

But nothing is stolen you verify after about ten minutes of searching.  Feeling exposed, and dreadfully misused, you make your way downstairs.

The police are waiting downstairs.  They've got the sprinklers turned off, and are interviewing witnesses.  Several of the witnesses turn and point at you as you walk in.

PT

I took the few extra minutes required to put my things back away and refold the sheet.  I was still wondering what that was all about as I decended the stairs.  This was sooo not going to be a good thing.  It wasn't ever fun dealing with the law back then.  And here, I don't even have a valid P.I. ticket.

I walked up to the guy who looked like he was in charge and smiled.  Hello.  I would like to report an attempted assault and kidnapping attempt.

You make your report, noting that someone was walking up behind you, and stays there just in case you decide to do something violent.

After the report, the rather short police lieutenant nods thoughtfully with his hands behind his back clasping a swagger stick.

"Well Miss Reynolds, I am Senior Lieutenant Alfredo Garcia. I must say this is troubling. On the one hand, we have several eyewitnesses who claim you attacked first. On the other hand, we have Dominga Ramirez, wanted for the execution of two policemen three years ago, shot dead. May the Dark take her.  A known cell leader in Revoluc'ion. Plus, no innocent person wanders about with Molotov cocktails, no?  But there are two dead bodies. One as yet unidentified.

I think you will have to come with us to court.  Perhaps you can explain further, and just maybe such would not be necessary."

PT

Senior Lieutenant Alfredo Garcia, the man walked up to my table, called me some type of capitalist boge-something imperialist, threw a blindfold on the table, and said that I had to go with him.  He told me that he had several people in the building to cover him.  He said that if I resisted, his team would kill both of us making him a Martyr for the Party.  I knew beyond the faintest shadow of any doubt that if I put that blindfold on, this would be the last time anyone ever saw me alive.  He threatened my life and I struck him in the throat to escape.  Then I dumped my chair backward to escape the backup team.  Someone threw a MoloTail at me.  Someone else shot at me.  I drew my pistol at that point and shot back at one, hitting her.  Someone else decided that I wasn't the soft target as promised, and that person split.  I felt like a drowned rat.  My hairdo, what there was of it, had suffered from the sprinklers.  I was not in the best of moods, but I also realized that Lt. Garcia was facing an unknown Gringa who just waxed a couple of people trying to kidnap her.

I left the dining room so quickly in order to check on my hotel room.  I figured that these people might have left a team in place there, in case they missed me in the dining room.  There was no one there, so I came back after making sure that my things weren't missing.  What other questions do you have?  There is no need to go anywhere else, is there?

"Well then he has gone whereever good Marxists go when they die.  Probably a dreary limbo where cheap vodka is served by maids in potato sack dresses."  He turns aside and checks a piece of paper handed to him by a subordinate.
"Miss, I find your story believable. I also applaud your shooting of the Wolf Spider, but this is not a business for me to decide. I find I must take you to the court, and let them decide.

Fear not, our courts are quick and fair.  You will be provided counsel, and I personally think you will be let go with thanks, but I am not the judge."

He holds out an arm, and points to the door.

"If you will come with me, I will require any weapons you have, and a female officer will search you, but on your promise of good behavior, I think we can avoid the indignity of handcuffs."

He looks at you waiting on your decision.

PT

"Well then he has gone whereever good Marxists go when they die.  Probably a dreary limbo where cheap vodka is served by maids in potato sack dresses."  He turns aside and checks a piece of paper handed to him by a subordinate.
"Miss, I find your story believable. I also applaud your shooting of the Wolf Spider, but this is not a business for me to decide. I find I must take you to the court, and let them decide.

Fear not, our courts are quick and fair.  You will be provided counsel, and I personally think you will be let go with thanks, but I am not the judge."

He holds out an arm, and points to the door.

"If you will come with me, I will require any weapons you have, and a female officer will search you, but on your promise of good behavior, I think we can avoid the indignity of handcuffs."

He looks at you waiting on your decision.

PT

Senior Lieutenant Alfredo Garcia, I must ask you this.  Do you know about how long these proceedings will take?  I have an important business transaction at the Banco de Buenos Aires.  I have been working with a Senor Esteban of the bank.  I am attempting to sell a new food packaging technology to these corporations, Dvega, Velasquaz Roman, and Sampson.  I have a meeting with Mr. Roman Velasquaz and the others at 2 PM on Wednesday.  I would hate to disappoint anyone.

Maybe the guy will be impressed by my situation.  Maybe he won't.  Either way, it's still the truth.  And Senor, if it is acceptable, I will turn over the two weapons I used to defend myself, but I would like to leave the others in the hotel in a safety deposit box.  Also, when these accusations are resolved, will I get my two weapons back?  I'm very attached to them.

He assures you that the situation will be resolved this very day.  You're not sure if thats good or not, but its certainly swift.

They take you in a car with Lt. Garcia, and a couple other cops to the 4th Street Gate of the Presidential Palace, and into it.  You then wait in a short line with a few other defendants, and then are admitted into the court room.

With surprise you see the judge is El Presidente.

He listens to the first case, and says with harsh sympathy.

"Mi amigo, you seem to know you cannot handle your drink. Once you pay the hospital bills, you are free to go, on the condition that you never drink again in my country. You do, and one of my police sees you, and its ten years in jail."

That sets the tone. Quick, often variable justice, but with a keen understanding of the situation, such so that you find yourself continually upgrading the President's very keen grasp of human nature.  He's almost Solomonic.

Justice and mercy are dispensed, often with the same swift words to the same person.

The twenty people in front of you have dwindled down to five when a little girl sits down next to you in an empty chair after she has finished handing everyone waiting for their trial a Coke(r).  She offers you one too.

"Grandfather said that he thought you all might be thirsty.  He apologizes for the dry air, but the AC is not working right."  You actually are thirsty,a nd the air is a little too dry.  "By the way, my name is Lily? What's yours?"

PT

Hello, Lily.  My friends call me Misty.  Thank you for the soda, but I'm too worried to drink it at the moment.  I've never been to court before and it's a little scarey here.  I decided to politely pass on the soda.  I didn't need to start to say something and belch while standing before the ruler of the country on charges stemming from defending myself from terrorists.

Her Grandfather, however, sounded like a nice guy.   After all, Grandfather apologized for the lack of cool air.  Was he some type of building supervisor?  If so, how did the little girl get permission to...  There is only one man in this room who could...  Misty, this serial reincarnation thing is turning your brain to mush.  Lily, is El Presidente your grandfather?

Lily, who is about ten or so, giggles.

"Of course, he is.  He's very nice.  Bestest grandpa in the whole world.  But I wouldn't worry about the trial really.  It will be okay."  She gives you a sunny smile, with a wide grin that says "I know something you don't."

Meanwhile, the guy two defendants in front of you is led away in chains.

"He was a very bad man.  Lots of anger in him."  Lily says softly, and then looks away. "Grandpa says you can't save everyone, although you try."

PT

Your Grandfather is a very wise man.  Lily, how did you know that the man has a lot of anger?  Maybe the kid is some type of an empath.  Maybe her Grandfather warned her to stay away from that one.  I had no idea why he let Lily wander around, but I would put better than even money on the fact that this kid was well protected in here.

"I'm a Velasquaz. We all can do that.  His aura is bright red with a little black.  You have a very interesting aura, Misty.  I wish I was like you, a private detective."  She gives you a very serious look. "I could help you."

"Lily. Enough for now." You hear the bailliff say softly from just in front of you, and then he points a diffident hand at you, and points to where you are supposed to stand.

"Address him as 'Your Honor', and just tell the story in your own words.  Lying to a judge is another criminal offense, and most unwise.  If you wish, you pledge your own honor, or swear on a copy of the Testimony of Lilith."

He says this all quietly as the next defendant goes free with a bright smile to be joined by a happy family.

"You're up."  The Bailliff whispers.

"Good luck." Lily says, and squeezes your hand quickly.

PT

I stood in the spot as directed and spoke up clearly and firmly.  Your Honor, I was sitting in the restaurant of my hotel when this man walked up to my table.  He looked very out of place and he was headed right for me, so I was on my guard,  I used to be a private eye and I guess that old habits die hard.  He called me some type of capitalist running-dog latchkey, threw a blindfold on the table, and said that I had to go with him.  He told me that he had several people in the building to cover him.  He said that if I resisted, his team would kill both of us making him a Martyr for the Party.  I didn't doubt him for a moment.  I knew beyond the faintest shadow of any doubt that if I put that blindfold on, this would be the last time anyone ever saw me alive.  He had threatened my life and the lives of those around me.  I struck him in the throat, killing him, in order to buy a few moments to escape the kill zone.  Then I dumped my chair backward to escape the backup team.  Someone threw a MoloTail at me.  Someone else shot at me.  I drew my pistol at that point and shot back at one, hitting her.  Someone else decided that I wasn't the soft target they were promised, and that person split.  I went to my room to make sure that nothing was stolen.  When I found my belongings intact, I came back down to speak with the police.  I came with them willingly.  And here we are, Your Honor.

He lays his hands flat on the table.

"You seem an honest person, and the accounts of the witnesses in general, allowing for the problems of eye-witnesses, seem to support your account. I see no reason to hold you.  In fact, I see every reason to commend you for your brave, yet responsible and sensitive to the safety of the innocents around you, actions.

I would like to take this opportunity to apologize on behalf of my people for certain rogue elements. I understand from my third son, Roman as people call him, that you have a valuable property.  I would suggest you remain on your guard.  It happens that Revolucion has a history of hiring themselves out to anyone willing to pay their fees.  So, they end up helping some of the more unscrupulous capitalists to help finance their 'Revolution'.  One would think the irony would choke them, but evidently not.

In the interests of public safety, both of those about you, and of your honorable self, I am going to have to insist that you take one of the Visitor's Apartments in the North Gardens Wing until after your business dealings are done.  If you leave the palace, you will be accompanied by a bodyguard.

If you have any further you wish to say, then speak. Otherwise this matter is closed."

He waits on you with calm silence.

PT

Crap!  He just put me in protective custody.  A fancy cage is still a cage.  Still it would be only for a couple of days and I did have to sleep sometime.  Your Honor, thank you for the offer of a safer place to stay for a couple of days.  I will need to pick up my belongings from my hotel and settle my bill.  Also, Your Honor, may I have my weapons returned?  If these people are still after me, I would feel a great deal better having some familiar tools readily accessable.  I wondered if there was a reward out on the Wolf Spider.  I made a note to ask the Detective.

"Mr. Garcia, could you escort the lady to her room, and back here?"  El Presidente says, and Alfredo Garcia leaps to his feet, and bows recognizing a command when he hears it.

He takes you from the room while the next case goes on.

As you climb into the front seat this time, you inquire delicately about a reward.

"Oh, si, senora, si. It was, let me think, 200,000 pesos, or a 100,000 US.  Yes, that was it.  Just tell me what bank you want it deposited in, and by the end of the week, paperwork, not as bad as America, but still we have some, and we will get it to your bank."

He drives you across town, and on the elevator up, you realize that he intends to enter your room first..the room that was obviously searched by a burglar.

PT

And who says that crime doesn't pay.  Senor Garcia, I have an account at the Banco de Buenos Aires.  Senor Esteban has been handling my transactions.  And Senor, may I have my weapon harness back?  I feel undressed without it.

As we drive, I comment on how much of a presence El Presidente has, even more so in person than on the television.  I also make small talk by asking about any impressive buildings I see along the route.

OOC:  We can only hope that the maid service has taken care of the problem.  Misty can't do much about it at the moment.

OOC: This is a clear and obvious GE roll time.  Will the maid do something, or not? GE roll of 16.  Thats right about average.

IC: You let him in the room nervously, and peek in to see it neat and clean with the blankets replaced, and your weapons put up, and everything ship-shape.

He comes back, putting his pistol away, and helps you gather your stuff.  You feel better now that you are armed.

Then Senior Lt. Garcia takes you back to the palace, and to a very nice three thousand square foot suite with a kind of Roman emperor playground style.  The ten foot square pool, the big-screen tv that comes out of the wall with a push of the button, the bar stocked with twenty year old wines, and the giant canopy bed in the shape of a heart.

A couple girls float in after Garcia leaves.

"Are you the new harem girl?"  They both are dressed in little white dresses, and cheerful smiles.

"I'm Kimmie." Giggle. "Girl no. 23"

"I'm Ronda." Bigger giggle. "Girl no. 35."  She pauses. "Hmm. Lily was girl no. uh, um.. Help me out here."

"Uh, fifty-one, yeah. She's like our mascot. No duties.  I guess that makes you girl no. uh, uh, 53." Ronda says trying very hard to calculate.

PT

Ohhh... Kay...  Great...  I'm locked up in the local version of the Playboy Mansion.    Hello, I'm Misty.  I'm just visiting for a couple of days, hiding out from some very evil people who are trying to kill me.  Do I have Lily's old room?  What happened to her?  I hope that you don't mind a few questions.  Is there any type of schedule around here?  Is there a gym where you work out?  When are meals served?  Assuming that you do eat, of course.  And just how often do you need helium injections to keep those balloons floating that high up on your chests?

I should behave myself.  Maybe the other fifty or so of 'the Girls' actually had functioning brain cells.  I seriously doubted it, but it could happen.

Once I got rid of Bunny and Bambi, I looked in the closets for some hangars to hang up my other two good outfits.  I also needed to find a laundry service to get some of my other garments clean.  Whatever type of laundry they had, it had to be a step above washing clothes in a stream.

"Lily is next to you, I mean in the next room over. Hmm. Not sure if thats across the hall or next door...Oh silly me, there's numbers on the doors.  But you have number fifty-two. How strange."  Ronda says.

"Oh yes, there is a gym, and a big pool on the roof."  Kimmie laughs. "Meals? Just go down like, um, three stories, and you should find the eating hall. I always get lost. Ronda has to help me."

Once they leave, you 'unsmile' and your cheeks are hurting.

Servants come by, and take away your stuff, and assure you that it will be dry cleaned within the hour.

There's also a wide array of clothing in the walk-in closet that bigger than most people's living rooms back home, such that you could easily find something 'fabulous'....

PT

I looked at the clothing in the huge closet carefully.  (It's a gurl detective thing.)  The garments seemed to be organized by size and by season.  I noticed that the sizes ran in a relatively narrow range.  I guess that whoever stocked this garment warehouse was more into the "Victoria's Secret" body types than the ones who wear "Just My Size".

Just because I had some free time, I checked out the things in my size.  I wasn't planning on actually wearing any of them.  Wow...  Some of these dresses must have cost more than my Mustang.  I thought I was doing well to have a black cocktail dress and a pair of black slingbacks.  I held one beautiful pale blue, floor-length gown in my hand and wondered for a moment what it would be like to wear it...

You hear a childish giggle behind you, and then the clatter of feet.  A museum-full of Barbies comes charging in, and is helping you into your chosen gown.  Whipping out the manicure set, getting out the scissors...

You see Lily giggling near the doorway as ten of the harem, or is it twelve, try to sweep you into Total Makeover...

"Come on, it'll be so much fun. We get so bored around here..besides, your nails, they really could use a manicure.."  They chorus.

PT

As the first one puts her hands on me, I have to fight the reflex to punch their collective lights out.  I had to remind myself that these fluff-brains were El Presidente's private stock and that damaging one or more of them would be a really bad thing to do.  I did manage to get them to back off just long enough to take off my weapon harness and put it away.

I resigned myself to my fate.  I needed to not create any problems for myself until I could get out of here and back on my own.  As I have several of them working on my hair, fingernails, and toenails, I decided that I prefered the company of the People's hit team.  At least I got to shoot them.

Uhhhh, you all know what you're doing, right?

"Oh no." One laughs. "We're just experimenting."

As you make to rise, another says.

"She's just teasing. Aren't you teasing, Sammie?"

"Oh sure, of course I am." Sammie says in what sounds like a doubtful tone of voice.

About two hours later, they try to put a silk blindfold on you, but you refuse, and so pouting a bit, they take you into another room.  Full body mirrors surround you, and that wonderful blue, floor-length gown.

Your first thought is and uncontrolled ...

"Who's she?" As you study the actress dolled up for the Emmy's revealed in the mirrors.

PT

wow  I just stood there... staring...  for I don't know how long.

Eventually, reality seeped back into my brain.  This was fun, but it wasn't real.  I used to play dress up with my plastic dolls.  Now, it seemed that the plastic dolls were playing dress up with me.

I turned to face the Barbie collection standing in the doorway.  Thank you all so very much.  You have shown me a side of myself that I haven't seen for a very long time.  I had almost forgotten that she was there.  You all worked so hard and I appreciate all of your effort.

I looked at the mirror through my real eyes this time, the ones not blinded by my surroundings.  This was just a costume, like on Halloween.  This apartment wasn't a part of my world.  This place was too nice to even be a part of my fantasies.  Even if I sold my self-heats for millions of dollars, I would never own a dress like that.

If you girls will excuse me for a while, I'd like to rest a bit. My day had just been a real killer.  Besides, where would I put a holster?

They twitter away like a flock of departing songbirds, and leave you with Lily you says with a shining face...

"Wow, Misty, you're beautiful."  Then she runs over, gives you a quick hug, and speeds out of the room yelling for the others to wait up for her.

You go spread out on the bed, and drift off with pleasant relaxation from your couple hours of pampering.

So you're a bit foggy when you wake to see Lily beside your bed.

"Come on, come on! There's a big problem."

PT

I slip out of the blue fantasy and throw on blue jeans, a black T-shirt, black crosstrainers, and my weapon harness.  As I'm dressing for work, I tell Lily to explain what is wrong.

"Well there's a bomb in a cabinet next door. One of the girls discovered it when they went to get a refill of lo-carb potato chips.  Its the snack room."

PT

First, don't touch anything.  Second, get everyone away from here.  Third, call security.  Make sure that you can account for everyone.  Also, ask around if any of the girls have seen anyone new around here, other than me.  I grabbed my backpack, waistpack, and laser rifle.  I wasn't worried about the dresses hanging in the closet.  I got them here, I could replace them here.

I went with Lily to help evacuate the area.  I know just enough about Improvised Explosive Devices to understand that they were best left to the experts.  I was starting to get a little wierded out.  This makes the second attempt on my life today.  OK, maybe I'm not the primary target this time, but why else would there be a bomb in a room with which I share a common wall.

"I didn't touch anything, but I looked forward. I think we have ten minutes. Maybe twenty."  Lily says as she walks over to the door, and opens it.  It swings open, and hangs there.

You and she rush out into the wide, marbled hallway.  She grabs a phone on a desk and starts talking to security.

"They say they will be up here quickly."  She yells as you grab a harem girl by the arm, and explain.

"There's a bomb. You need to get out now!"

The girl looks back at you, and laughs.

"Oh, please. Why would anyone want to hurt us?"  She turns to walk away, heading toward the swimming pool you'd judge by her suit.  A couple other lovelies are in the hall, and the first girl tells them what you said.  They giggle, and agree with her.

PT

I pull my Glock and fire several rounds into the ceiling.  Everybody!  Out!   Now!

They look at you in utter shock.

"We could never disobey darling Armando.  Besides, you wouldn't hurt us."  They turn back to their activities, blessed with invincible confidence in their safety.

Its...almost inhuman.

Lily grabs your hand.

"Maybe we need to get out of here."

PT

These people are too stupid to be believed.  Lily, show me what you saw, then run like Hell itself is chasing you, 'cause it will be.  I need to take a close look at this thing.  Maybe I can figure out how to disarm it.  I had some EOD training as an MP, but that was a long time ago.  You might say, a couple of lifetimes ago.

She takes you into the snack room which has a bunch of nice tables, capuccino makers, racks of snacks, refridgerators and freezers, and some cabinets.  Under a sink is an ebony cabinet door left hanging open.

Inside is a metal can, finished black, about the size of a five gallon jug.  Its wielded shut, and screwed with brackets down to the base of the cabinet.  On the exterior is a small ball made of clear acrylic, and inside is a pool of water, and what looks like a tiny fish.

Wielded to the bottom of the fish 'bowl' is a counting clock which is also bracketed but only to the jug.  It is at 19:13...19:12....

As you get closer the fish darts frantically about.

Lily is still with you.

"I can get out very fast. Much faster than the others."

PT

Disarming that bomb is out of my league.  I stare at it a moment longer.  I've got to get the girls out of here somehow.  When this went off, the girls would be in for a big shock.    shock...   Hmmm...

I took out my stunwand and dialed it down to a high training power level setting.  Lily, when I touch you with this, I want you to run from here screaming out loud that I'm some kind of maniac.  Be creative. And by the way, this is going to hurt...  I touched her in the side with the shockwand.  ...a lot.

OOC: No roll required her.

She tries to jump back, but you zap her.  Lily cries out in pain, and then looks at you through tear-stained and outraged eyes, and rage flickers across her face.  She waves a hand at you, and you're launched from a catapult, slammed with stunning force to bounce off the ceiling and then the wall before sliding down the wall to the floor.

You don't think anything is broken, but you're out of breath, for sure.

"How dare you!" She screams, and you see tables levitating along with chairs, and thunder rolls in the skies above the palace.  Her hair is floating away from her head, and her eyes make you shiver to look into them.

PT

That went... well...  I screamed at her.  Focus!  Remember the bomb!  Use that anger to save your sisters!  Only you can save them!  Go save your friends!  I slowly get to my feet.  What in the hell is this place, the Xavier Institute?  You can take the time to hurt me or save your friends!  Decide now!

"I...I don't want to hurt you. You're my friend."  Her face turns tearful, but then angry again. "Don't do that again."  And then with her eyes gleaming with a furious power, she throws back her head, and yells not so much physically as mentally.

You can hear the holler inside your head, and you wonder for a fleeing second, just how many people in the city heard her.

"GRANDPA!!"

Two seconds later, el Presidente with a newspaper in one hand, a smoking pipe in the other, and dressed in a pajama suit, a nice bronze robe, and slippers appears in the midst of the room.  He looks around, and starts to assess the situation.

PT

I'll worry about just how this is happening when I have time.  El Presidente, there is something which appears to be a bomb in the break room.  The girls didn't believe me, so I tried to shock Lily into doing something.  I powered down and reholstered my stunwand.  We need to evacuate this area now, Sir.

"I've taught my children a sense of personal honor. This has drawbacks on occasion."  He says even as you hear in your head...

*Everyone in the North Garden Wing, and the Garden Plaza is to evacuate the area immediately. You have ten minutes to get clear, or face judicial sanction. If you wait much longer than that, you won't have to worry about judicial sanction as you will be dead. Now hurry, but politely.*

And then in a less intense mental tone...

*Girls, there is a gas leak, and I'd like you to gather on the roof of the South Garden Wing. Thank you*

He then looks over at you, and with a doubletake at the bomb.

"Hmm. Evidently something I did. It seems the bomb has sped up radically. Miss Reynolds, I'm going to charge you with my granddaughter's safety. You have sixt seconds to get clear."

A quick glance shows the numbers blurring as they descend...

PT

I grab Lily and throw her over my shoulder as I kick in my adreno booster nanopump.  We have to go, girl.  Grandfather said so.  I know that I'm going to pay for this later, but as for now, it's time to run really fast and really far.

You sprint down the hall with el President's voice ringing in your ears, or is it your mind?

"Go! Go!"

At the end of the hall is a staircase down, but leading directly outside is a balcony, which overlooks an Olympic swimming pool with a ten meter board.  The door rips off in front of you, for both the staircase and the balcony, and you can hear screaming and running girls behind you, but you are the fastest here, despite the sixty pound weight on your shoulder.

You are on the third floor.

PT

As I pound down the hall, I figure that by the way the timer was spinning, we have a lot less than sixty seconds to get clear of this building.  Since one of the girls was walking this way wearing a swimsuit, I assumed that there was a pool here somewhere.

I drew my blaster as I ran and fired it at the balcony railing to make an opening.  If we were very lucky, I could leap through the gap at top speed in a successful attempt to land in the swimming pool with Lily.  If not, I could at least break Lily's fall and hopefully not too many of my own bones in the process.

The laser bolt thunderclaps down the marble hallway, and shatters the stone railing into large chunks while leaving bright sparkles in front of your eyes.  Good ol' Confederation tech.

You find an extra notch of speed, and screech out onto the balcony, and is it two, or three steps, and you're airborne.  Your legs are still churning underneath you which is convenient because you realize you are heading toward a landing on the end of the ten meter board.

Fear grips you, and then like a blessing, its utterly gone, only leaving cold calculation behind.

Your foot comes down on the white board, and you step over a startled pigeon before it can take flight, and another step driving forward trying to convert falling energy into horizontal energy before your knees pop, and your ankles rupture, another step, and its a surprise when the board kicks back, and flings you both high into the air in a great half-circle that ends just beyond the halfway line with your plunging shoes first into the water, and going all the way down fifteen feet to thump on the bottom.

You float back to the surface, and Lily is alright, for the moment.

PT

Adreno booster off.  I look down in the water and see my pack sitting on the bottom with broken shoulder straps.  I imagine that I'm going to have 'Hall-of-Fame' pain all down my back when this is over.  My laser rifle is down there, too.  I'll get them later.  Maybe I can find my blaster pistol, too.

I get Lily over to the side of the pool closest to the building area with the bomb.  Lily, are you all right?  We need to stay here in the pool next to the side.  If the bomb goes off, the water and our being below the surface of the ground level will protect us.  I take a very deep breath and let it out.  Lily, you have to hold on to the side of the pool.  I'm very tired.  Can you do that, please?

"Okay Misty..." She says as you start drifting off. You feel yourself being towed to the side of the pool, and you'd like to giggle as you see supermodels raining down out of the sky to land in the pool...and a few seconds later...A huge, gust of fire roars out of the building and toward the pool, just somehow missing everyone, and then the whole building looks like it jumped up ten feet into the air, and then it just crumples in on it self.

It didn't seem loud, you think, until you dazedly see Lily yelling at you, and you can't hear her.

And then she touches your forehead. You hear a voice in your head.

*Okay Misty. You'll be all right. Doctor is coming. They say you're going into shock. I can keep you here unless you fight me...* And you feel something indescribably strong grab "you", your dreams, your memories, your very life, in a grip of stone, and hang on.

You're not sure how, but you're laying alongside the pool with your feet up.

PT

Did...  every... one... make... it?  I just want to sleep, but Lily is holding my hand and I promised her Grandfather that I'd take care of her and I should have put the blue gown in my pack and my laser rifle is underwater and I need to rest and Lily is here with me so I need to stay awake and I lost my blaster and I have to tell the next hotel that I want a no smoldering room and I want a cold glass of iced tea and I want to sleep but Lily is here and the Doctor is coming and I don't want to miss that and I hope that Grandfather is all right and ...

A woman, with the same nose as Roman Velasquaz comes by after some immeasurable time, and she smiles at you.

"Thank you for saving Lily.  You'll feel better in the morning. I promise."

And then things fade.

You wake in a bed on a clean cotton sheet, with gauze curtains blowing above your head, and the cries of seagulls outside the window, as well the surge of waves against rock.

Lily comes pelting into the doorway.

"You're up, yay! I thought you'd sleep forever."  She grins, her face holding secrets and good cheer, and a readiness to play.

Surprisingly, your body agrees with that last bit, even though you expected to be black and blue from head to toe.

"Oh Marinna fixed you up. She's good at that."

PT

I don't feel dead.  Before I do any serious movement, I check to see what I'm wearing.  Satisfied that I'm not going to reveal any more of myself than necessary, I sit up and swing my legs toward the floor.   Hello, Lily.  I'm sorry for the mean trick I played on you yesterday.  Was it only yesterday?  I needed you to call for help really loudly.  I laughed.  Remind me not to ever do that again, please?  I looked around for something to drink.  If you see Marinna before I do, please thank her for me.  I don't quite know what she did, but she did it very well.

I decided to try standing up.  The process was a lot easier than I had expected it to be.  I couldn't very well go outside in a nightgown, no matter how nice it was.  Lily, did anyone mention where my stuff is located.  I really can't walk around like this.

The way things were going, I really wanted my weapon harness close by.  Yesterday, I killed one terrorist with a melee weapon, shot another one after having a MoloTail thrown at me, zapped a little girl to get some badly needed command focus, and blew the railing off of a third floor balcony before jumping off of it just seconds before a bomb destroyed the entire building.  I could hardly wait to see what this day would bring.

"Okay. Grandfather taught all of us to defend ourselves. A Velasquaz has honor, he says. So I can't apologize, but how about we make a deal, you don't shock me, and I won't put the telekinetic wallop on you?"  And then she reaches out her arm, and your weapon harness floats into the room, and to your hand.  She giggles at this point.

"I'll let you tell her, she's coming by this evening."

You get up, get dressed, and wander about the seaside cottage that rests atop a cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

Its a bright, cheery, and modest little seaside cottage of a mere ten thousand square feet.  There is a staff of servants, but they have been given a paid vacation in the interests of security.

PT

After getting dressed, I spent part of the day cleaning and drying out my weapons and equipment.  My electronic devices from before all this happened were trashed by submerged in the pool.  It was not a good thing.  My surveilance gear was state of the art and will need to be replaced, but I'm really going to miss my iPod.  I really need to replace my backpack, too.  Maybe I could find something a bit larger and stronger.  The multi-visor, however, survived well.

I would need to swap out my 9mm ammo, too.  I have no idea how long it was submerged.  I'm not trusting my life with it anymore than I have to until I can replace it.  Maybe this place would have a really cool holster weapon, too.  After all, I was coming into some money soon.  All I needed to do was stay alive to collect it.  Maybe El Presidente could allow me access to some military items.

The seaside 'cottage' was nice.  The guards were almost undetectable, too, which led me to feel a bit better about being here.  The rest of the day passed all too quickly.

I believe your blaster pistol was in your room when the room exploded.

You mention your worries to the guards, and they lead you down to the armory in the basement. Its a small, but very well-stocked room.

You're able to pick up a 9MM Glock, and a H&K MP7A1 PDW catches your eye, and you try to restrain your drool.  The guard just laughs, and hands it to you.

"You saved quite a few from the bombing. Most especially, little Lily. Keep it. Kill lots of rats with it."

You already have your laser blaster.

Later that day,toward the evening, a lady with obvious elegance mixed with relaxed cheer comes walking up the steps toward you.  She looks "Velasquaz."

"Ah, senora, my patient, I see you are much improved." Marinna Velasquaz says clasping her hands together.  "I had wanted to check in on you, and Lily."

PT

With the guard's permission, I avail myself of the Glock 17, two hundred rounds of 9mm, the H&K PDW, three filled twenty round magazines, six filled forty round magazines, a cleaning kit, a holster, one short double mag pouch, three long double mag pouches, three hundred extra rounds of 4.6 mm ammo, and a PDW holster which matches my combat harness pretty well.  I smile when I ask the guard when he can find a bit of free time to show me how to use the PDW and some range time to get really familiar with it.  I'm hoping for really soon.

I smiled at Marinna.  I am informed by a reliable source that my quick recovery is due to your expert care.  Thank you.

Once I did some bodyguard work for an owner who was worried about someone dognapping his poodle.  I don't know if the threat was real or if this guy just got his jollies by telling the other owners that his hound needed a bodyguard.  (Hey, don't laugh.  I needed the money.)  That's kind of how I felt around here, like a mutt at Westminister.

Oops. You have the blaster.

Marinna smiles.

"Its a talent most Velasquaz's have to a greater or lesser degree. I'm the one with the most of it.  It helps greatly to have my doctor's degree, of course, but in the end medicine,and the healing flow of energy are doing the same thing. We encourage the body to heal itself.  Lilith be praised, the human body is a marvelous device."

She sits a bit closer.

"Now if you don't mind, I'd like to examine my work a bit more thoroughly. Think of it as a post-op check-up.  Besides, not to frighten you, but I sensed some peculiarities about your body when I treated  you."

She holds her hands out, fingers outstretched, and you almost 'see' lightning leaping from fingertip to fingertip. But its only out of the corner of your eyes, or when you're not paying attention to it that it is visible.



PT

...some peculiarities?  She has no idea.  I've been around a bit.  I must have picked something up along the way.  Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be bothering me.  Whatever Marinna is doing, it feels kind of tingly.  It's not a sexual feeling exactly, but...  I don't know...  It does feel good, like...  ummmmm...  all my nerves are being touched in a good way... like an all over body massage by a hundred pairs of hands.

When she stops, a few moments or a few hours later, I have to take a moment to steady myself.  Wow...  Will I live?

She looks weirded out.  And focuses off in the distance for a second.  And then with an apologetic smile turns back to you.

"Oh yes. You're just fine.  You have some devices in your body, but they seem to have been deliberately put there."  She points out the Misty 2.1 devices with a sculpted fingernail.

"But to answer your question more properly, the real question is will you die?" Then she laughs a bit loudly. "I mean thats silly. Of course you will. But, along with everything else, I looked at your telomeres, becasue they seemed odd. And I could swear that there was some yellow fluid attached to them.

But even for me, its very hard to hold my concentration at the microscopic level.  But I would not be surprised if you lived to a very old age."

She sits back.

"I would not mind taking a sample, only a pinprick, and taking it back to my laboratory. For further testing."

PT

That's all right, you don't have to do anything special. The yellow stuff won't hurt me.  But, if you're interested, I could tell you something about the little machines.  It would have to be our little secret. Is that all right with you?

When she agrees, and I can't see why she wouldn't, I explain how I was working as a security consultant on a ship when the Ship's Doctor put the little machines in me to help me cope with the stresses of shipboard life.  I left out a few minor details like the ship was a starship in a totally different timeline or existance that crashlanded on an alien planet.  ... and some of those little machines inside me assisted by helping me outrun the bomb timer while carrying Lily over my shoulder.  At least, with the building blown up, I wouldn't have to explain the hole I put in the railing.  Were you in the building?  I was a little too busy to notice you at the time.

She's fascinated, and has to restrain herself from asking if she can open you up to look at the machines.

"Oh, no, I was at the other end of the Palace.  I think Rogiero might have been up that way, perhaps Roman too.  I'm glad none of my relatives were hurt, although it is very sad so many of the harem and the servants perished.  I know my grandfather wants desperately to find who was responsible.  But its a worrisome thing, who could breach palace security?  While it is a very big building, and there are many people there, still, our security is extremely good.  Plus, we have devices, that I cannot tell you of the details, but no one with the intent to murder should be able to walk into the palace."

PT

I don't know if your Grandfather told you, but I was at the Palace in protective custody.  I killed a couple of Marxists who were trying to kidnap me.  El Presidente decided that I should remain in the palace for my own protection.  If you don't mind my changing the subject and asking something personal, can you teach other people to do those things you do with your minds?  These people have some serious talents.  I figured that maybe I could learn something while I'm here.  If you had to be a member of the family, maybe they would consider adopting me.

"It depends. Some people are sensitive. Some are not. Although, I think Lily knows how to turn an unsensitive 'on'."

She holds out her hands, and almost lightning sparks between them.  Marinna asks you what you see, and when you answer her, she smiles.

"A non-sensitive would only see fingers.  Not that all psi talents have a visible portion, but my healing does.  Now, I am pretty busy.  So, I don't have a lot of time to mentor a new psi.  You could ask Lily to help you.  Or we could work on a laboratory experiment together with you as the trainee/test subject."

PT

I would like to see if Lily can help me.  I can only guess at how busy you are.  Truth be told, I have to be at a business meeting at the Banco de Buenos Aires tomorrow at two, so I can understand about running out of time.  Again, thank you for your help.  I really didn't have much of anything to do at the moment, but I was getting hungry.  There is one other matter... would you direct me to where I can get a bite of something to eat?

At this rate, I would need a dayplanner.  I needed to schedule some range time to get really familiar with the PDW.  I needed to replace my lost clothing and get a larger backpack to replace my broken one.  I had a business meeting tomorrow afternoon.  And last but certainly not least, see Lily about getting some type of mental switch turned on.  I wasn't this busy as a PI before all of this happened.

She laughs, and says thats a good sign. You should be ravenous for the next couple days.

She leads you into the kitchen, and makes for the both of you substantial subway style sandwhiches, with yours according to your order.

"I don't like your country's policies toward cocaine, but I have to tell you, your people know how to eat."  She says, and bites into the end of her foot-long turkey, swiss, roast beef, more turkey, more swiss, bacon, and tomato with mayo sandwhich.

PT

Between bites, I note that the only difference in our two sandwiches is that she has tomato while I have black olives.

Her comment about 'my country's cocaine policies' bothers me a little since I have no idea of what they are in this world.  Still there were the heavy-handed DEA thugs from a few days ago to give me some idea of how they worked.  I'm more into the live and let live philosophy.  I'm not in any position to change anyone's laws and I know that I'm not smart enough to be able to figure out all that kind of stuff.

I took a couple more bites of this wonderful sandwich.  I need to do a little shopping.  I lost some outfits in the explosion and my backpack is definitely the worse for wear.  I've got some traveller's checks, but they didn't like the pool very much.  I will have some reward money coming in a few days.  Until then, I would like to know if you are aware of a store which issues it's own charge cards?

"Thats the way most Americans feel, but the DEA has this idea cocaine is addictive and harmful. Idiocy. Its a good treatment for SAD which is especially important considering the huge cloud cover you have over North America during the winter. Statistics show that taking cocaine adds five years to the average life expectancy for a Norte Americano."

She shrugs.

"I'm not a policy level person either, although I did meet Presidente Gore once."

She draws a blank on your question for the reason that she's rich enough to not need a credit card.

"All the nice stores know me, and they just add it to my tab which my house manager pays at the end of the month.  Hey, why don't I take you and Lily shopping? Lily has almost outgrown some of her clothes, and it'll be my treat."

PT

I thought back to the room sized closet bursting with clothing in my all too temporary 'room' at the palace.  I only needed a couple of business outfits and a cocktail dress to replace the ones lost in the explosion.  I could only imagine what her version of shopping consisted of, but I seriously doubted that it resembled mine.

Are you sure that you don't mind me tagging along?  I could probably get the bank to replace the traveller's checks with no problem.  I just need a couple of things and I wouldn't want to be in the way.  I also didn't want to put the two of them in jeopardy.  If someone was still trying to kill me, I didn't want them in the line of fire.  Then again, someone was actively trying to kill them, and they almost got me as collateral damage.  So, here's my problem... should I feel obligated to protect the people who saved me from dying from a bomb planted to take them out?

Also, I have to be at the bank at two PM to do a major business deal.  So, as much as I would like to go with you to go shopping, maybe it isn't such a good idea for me if I can't make it back to the bank on time.

She shrugs, and offers to take you another time.

Later that day, you find your way to the bank, and get your traveller's checks replaced.  And then you get set up for the meeting.

Lily is with you, unless you explicitly forbid it, and she's turning her formidable charm on, and wheedling with the best of them.

Soon the room at the bank is filled with about twenty people, mostly men, in dark business suits, and a small horde of waiters is making them comfortable.

Its easy to pick out the leaders of the food service companies as they are each the center of a small ring of lawyers and assistants.

PT

I was glad to have Lily along.  I asked her to be my translator for my shopping trip and to sit in on my business meeting with me.  I don't know if there are any ethics in having a paranormal kid monitor your business deal, but I decided to just borrow her command of Brasilian and English, letting the other stuff ride.

The bank was very nice when they replaced my checks.  It was kind of creepy.  I've never had a bank teller offer to get me coffee and a roll before.  He even offered Lily a class of juice.  Being a little nervous, I declined, but Lily did like the juice.

My first shopping stop was at a military/camping supply shop.  I showed them my overstuffed and ruined backpack.  Lily helped me get across that I needed a bigger, stronger pack.  She also helped me locate a scabbard to attach to the side of the pack to hold my laser rifle.  The clerk wondered what the rifle was, but he still found something which worked.

I transfered my stuff over in the cab ride.  The cabbie didn't bat an eye as I transfered weapons and ammo from one bag to the other.  I wondered if it happened all of the time.

My next stop was the same shop where I purchased my two business suits and the cocktail dress.  I found the same outfits in my size and repurchased them, after Lily voted her approval on them.  When the salegirl gave me a strange look, I realized that she was the one who helped me the last time.  I just shrugged and smiled.

A couple of more stops for replacement slingbacks, undergarments, and a really cool stuffed panda for Lily and it was time for lunch.  I only knew of two restaurants, McDonalds and "Mama" Sanchez's place.  I asked Lily where she wanted to eat.  I had the Big Mac and iced tea again.  Lily got the brave leader of the Brasilians in her Big Kid's Meal.

I didn't have time to change clothes before the meeting.  There was room in the brand new rucksack for my purchases, though, so I just stashed them there.  If there was a problem with my wearing blue jeans and t-shirt, that was their problem.

I was taken aback as I entered the room for the meeting.  If Lily hadn't grabbed on to my hand and pulled me into the room, I might still be standing in the doorway.  I located Senor Esteban easily.  He was looking for me, too.  I never heard what, if any, press there was about the explosion, so I decided to not mention it.  I appologize for my attire.  My other things were damaged.  Moths are dangerous little things, you know.  Lily giggled.  I pointed to my short shopping partner.  And this is my friend Lily.  We are spending the day together.

OOC:
Backpack:  http://www.surplusandadventure...800/shopscr3370.html

Pretty much everyone knows of, or knows Lily.  She goes over, and gets a hug from Uncle Roman, and from another one of the food company presidents...Manuel Dvega.  Then she gravely shakes hands with the others, before running back to your side.

Henry Sampson stands, and speaks.

"We heard about the bomb when we talked to El Presidente. Terrible news. I'm glad you both escaped, and saddened that so many bright flowers and faithful warriors were extinguished. I had a cousin amongst them. We will certainly find the villains, and deal with them."

A lot of grim nods are exchanged between the men, and you realize its definitely a macho culture.  The men hear feel, or act as if they feel, personally offended by this, and they want revenge.

PT
OOC: Very nice description of the day. You've got the flavor of this world down very well.

It will take the air system a long time to flush the testosterone out of the air from this meeting.  I don't mind.  If that is what drove me, I'd be burning it in anger just as much as these men are, or seem to be.  Even though this isn't my country, or for that matter, my planet, this mad bomber almost got me, too.  I tend to take someone trying to kill me rather personally.  It's a character flaw which I'm not trying to work on at the moment.

Once all the macho affirmations had died down, I took a deep breath and began to speak.
Gentlemen, thank you all for returming here today.  First, I would like to thank Senor Esteban for the work he has done preparing for this meeting.  Now, for the reason you have all gathered here.  I am here to sell one of you several examples of a radically new type of packaging.  I don't want the patent.  I don't want a percentage of unit sales.  I just want to sell a few packages of self-heating food for cash.  I have placed these packages of food in a safety deposit box here at the bank.  I'm glad that I did, otherwise, this venture might have gone up in smoke.  If you will excuse me for a couple of minutes, Senor Esteban and I will go and get the packages while you discuss the matter among yourselves.

As I exited the room with Senor Esteban, I asked him.  Do you have any extra security on today?  Also, are we taping the procedings today?

OOC:  Thank you.

You come back, and the group is leaning forward, a tension fills the air, and Senor Esteban gives you a tight smile.

"Let us open the bidding please, with the gentleman from Velasquaz. And to make it easier on our seller, in US dollars please."

"Half a million."

"Three-quarters." Dvega says.

"One." Roman replies.

A pause.

"Two." Sampson says.

"Two and a quarter." Roman says, a bit uncomfortably.

"I'm out." Dvega says.

"Two and a ...no...an even three." Sampson says as Roman starts to say something, at which Roman laughs as Sampson boosts his offer.

"You want it that badly. You have it my friend." Roman says.

"I have a big market in America as well. I think it will be very popular there."  Sampson explains.

Theres a bit of relaxation, and then Senor Esteban says formally.

"All right, the Sampson Food Company buys the proffered items for three million dollars US. They may take the items now. Payment to be placed in my bank by the end of the business day."

PT

Three...  million...  dollars...  After a moment, I drop back into reality, or as close as I'm going to get to it for a while.  After bank fees, the broker's fee for Senor Esteban, taxes, and other fees, I'll be lucky to clear half of that, but half of that is still well over a million dollars.

I somehow stumble through thanking everyone for their interest in the items without swallowing my tongue or doing anything else stupid.  I was rich...  OK, I know that I'll never be in the Hilton sister's class, but it is a whole lot more nickles to rub together than I've ever had before.

I had the rest of the afternoon to look forward to reading and signing documents.  One of my requirements was that I had to be able to read them, so at least they would be in what passed for English.  Just before Senor Esteban dragged me away, I got a moment to talk to Lily.  Lily, I had a really good time today. Now, it looks like I'm going to be here a long time signing papers.  I think it's going to be really dull.  I think you might find it to be even worse.  Would you like to head home with your Uncle?  I would like to talk to you later, though, about whether you can turn on my brain to do things like your family can.

She smiles at you in her typically dazzling way.

*Sure. No problem.* You hear in your head, and then she skips out with Uncle Roman who gives you a rueful wave of the hand as he stands by the door, and then he follows her out.

It is indeed dull, but not as bad as anticipated. The Brasilians have a healthy dislike of paperwork, and so they do their best to minimize it.  Rather than the America where you came from which seems to be run sometimes to benefit the manufacturers of forms.  But still, its two hours before you're done signing the last non-disclosure agreement.

And the taxes are not nearly as onerous as you expected. A flat ten percent on everything (a 10% sales tax with exceptions for food,medicine, and a single charity deferment for paying money to the Church of Lilith--the tax code for individuals is legally limited to one page of paper) , plus the ten percent for Senor Esteban, plus another ten percent in special fees, and you take home 2.1 million dollars.

After you are done, Senor Esteban thanks you profusely for his check.  And then he has coffee sent in, and chocolates, and leans back in his chair.

"Do you mind if I smoke a cigar? It seems the time for it. Misty, I reccomend you come back in a few days, and we can put together for you a financial package, investments, or whatever you want.  But if you have something you would like to do right now, of course, I can help you. And we will give you our very best VISA card, the Investor Card, in case you need to buy something now."

PT

I smiled.  Actually, there is something in which I am very interested.  I am interested in assembling an investment in precious metals and gem stones.  I'm interested in getting a small quantity of unmounted flawless one carat diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and similiar stones.  I'm also interested in getting some one ounce bars of platinum, gold, and silver.  I'm looking at getting them as a hedge against fluctuating currency values.  If this "serial reincarnation" thing kept happening, I wanted to be able to take some of this with me as easily transportable valuables.

And yes, a VISA card would be a good thing.  So would say... six thousand in pesos.  I'm sure that my hotel's management would be happy to get paid.  Again, thank you for the loan upon my arrival.  It helped me greatly, and I hope that I have been able to repay your confidence in me.

I now had bucks deluxe available to me.  The trick was now how to collect some of it in a form which I could use.  Senor Esteban, have you worked hard enough today that you could afford to knock off a little bit early?  I know this great restaurant...

You take him to Mama Sanchez's, and he enjoys it greatly.

"This is not the sort of place, I would expect an American tourist to find, Misty.  But, yes, very bueno it is.  Now, I know who to hire to cater this month's board of directors meeting."

Later, he drops you off at your hotel, and tells you he will have things ready for you the next day.  You quickly slip in, pay your bill, and the hotel expreses their sympathy with your troubles,and you go on back out to have Senor Esteban drive you to your car.

In your car seat on the driver's side is small thin book.

"The Deeds of the Dark Lady Lilith."

Its a ...reinterpretation of the Book of Lilith.

PT

At his comment that Mama Sanchez's is not the sort of place that an American tourist would find, I smile and playfully respond with...  Senor, do you not yet know that I have little in common with a typical American tourist?  Actually, I had gotten lost and some kind men of the neighborhood guided me here.  I really didn't feel the need to share the minor details that they were drug dealers and I was hiding in the shadows from the DEA.

At the Hotel, I ask the staff member who waited on me about just what troubles I was supposed to be having that required their sympathy to be offered.

OOC:  What car?  Misty has been taking cabs or walking to get around.

OOC: Lets revise a bit. I'm heading close to my maximum file size in ROM for this game in my brain, and I'm starting to drop details.

IC:

The hotel clerk says...

"Oh, senora, the way you were attacked in the hotel restauraunt, and then had to go to court, and we didn't see you back here. We hope things have been made safe for you."

Senor Esteban takes you back to the cottage, and drops you off at the gate with a guard.

The guard hands you a small package, which has been opened.

"The Deeds of the Dark Lady Lilith."

Its a ...reinterpretation of the Book of Lilith.

Since I never read the original Book of Lilith, this alternate view of the book is not on my list of 'must reads'.  I ask the guard if he knows how the book got here, then thank him and go on in to the cottage.

As I enter, I sweep the rooms with my Glock.  Then, I check everywhere to see if any unexpected packages were left for me.  (It's not paranoia, people have been out to get me.)

He says the mailman dropped it off, and while it is not a banned book like the Anarchist's Guide, it is considered in extremely poor taste.

The rooms seem clear.  Although you're breathing heavy by the end, and you keep feeling like someone is behind you, but every time you check, nobody, and nothing.

Its clear. But you still feel watched.  Maybe the stress is getting to you.

PT

I still felt that certain 'itch' between my shoulder blades.  I've learned to trust my instincts.  If something feels 'wrong' to me, that usually means that I've picked up some small clues and put them together in the back of my mind.  My 'itch' has been right often enough that I don't feel silly in following them up.

Even though I was tired, I decided to act on my 'itch'.  I looked around the main room, taking note of any clocks, light fixtures, air vents, or other things which were sitting in a position to face the center of the room.  I then carefully checked each object looking for the telltale signs of a pinhole video camera. I also checked the lamps, under the desk drawers, in the telephone, and behind any pictures for a possible listening device.

Next, I turned my attention to the book.  I checked the spine and the thickness if the covers to see if they could be holding a tracking or homing device.  If someone was watching the guard, his giving me the book would have identified myself as the proper target.  It was time to get to work.

Once I was as sure as I could be that no one was watching me, I drew the curtains tightly closed.  Next, I arranged some pillows to look sort of like me under the blanket.  Finially, I placed a chair in an area sort of blocked by the door when opened.  I sat there, Glock in hand, waiting to see if anyone was going to come a visiting.

You look at the binding most carefully, after ascertaining that there was something in it.  About an inch long, the thickness of a pencil lead, it rests near the bottom edge of the book's binding.

Your other preparations continue, but no one comes busting in through the window to machine-gun your bed, although the sensation of being watched strengthens.

In fact, you'd be willing to bet your watcher is a man.  Just by the feeling in the air.

PT

I place the book as far away from my bed as possible.  I'm thinking it could be some type of radioactive tracker.  It might even be some type of radioactive poison.  If I read the book, I get enough exposure for it to be a lethal dose.  It's a little too small for what I know of to be a transmitter.  In any case, I didn't plan on reading the book anyway.  I placed in back the envelope, then handed it to the guard.   Please put this as far away from everyone as possible as soon as possible.  There is a suspicious item hidden in the binding.

He quickly takes it from your hands, and puts it into a heavy bag, and then takes the bag over to a metal square on the ground.  Once there, he presses a lever with his foot,and the square retracts, and then he drops the bag into the now revealed hole in the ground, and dives back onto the cement near the hole.  The cover comes down.

For a long second, you both wait for the lid of the bomb room buried in the ground to lurch skyward with a tongue of flame behind it, but nothing happens.  Wiping sweat from his face, the guard stands up.

He then trots over to the guard station, and calls.

"Get the EOD squad out here. We've had an incident. Level Three."

"Two minutes." The intercom squawks back.  The guard looks back at you.

PT

I describe the item and my suspicions about it to the guard.  I explain about the attempted kidnapping earlier at the hotel.  I also mention that since the bomb at the palace, I'm more than a little jumpy. Since I didn't order the book, I explain, I carefully checked it out and reported what I found.  ... It could be nothing, but I didn't want to take any chances.  Thank you for taking such prompt action.

I suppose that I'm going to look foolish if this is nothing, but I really don't care.  The bomb squad should be here any time now.

A bomb van, heavily laden, so that it rocks even with its reinforced shocks, a van filled with commandoes, and two police cars come racing up within the minute.

They take down your facts, and run a fiber optic cable down to the book with a camera at the end.  Meanwhile, one of the policemen is taking down a more formal account, and assuring you that you did the right thing considering the situation, and mixing in dark comments about Anti-Lilithians.

Later, you hear from the tech who's operating the camera, and his partner who is using a spider robot that is a very crude facsimile of the one you used on the outside of the spaceship.

"Not a bomb."

A bit of relaxation, and you feel a bit embarrassed.

"Definitely hinky."

A few minutes more.

"Ah. Haven't seen one of these in a year. Pressurized dart. Coated with something. Have to lab test to see what it is. Not sarin, or any of the majors, but..."

It takes a bit more, but they wind things up.

PT

Maybe the word will get around among the guards that I'm not "crying Wolf".  Who knows, they might even give me a couple of brownie points for being so alert.  I can't help but wonder who I ticked off so much that they want me so dead.

As I head back to my cottage, I pause to speak with the security guard.  Thank you again for your assistance.  I'll sleep a lot better knowing that you're on watch.

At least I hoped that I would, but I didn't.

The morning comes slowly, and with perhaps an hour of sleep in its train, and you rise from bed, your modifications making what would have been misery into something unpleasant.

A cup of coffee, and a cold shower in that order and you feel almost as alert as you did every morning before the mods.

Once dressed, you hear Lily singing, and smell her making breakfast.

"Two or three eggs, Misty? And how do you want them?"  She calls out from the next room.  You see a report in a file on the "kitchennette", a sunken sun room leading out through glass walls onto a stone patio, table.  Its adressed to you.

You flip it open, and see several pages of reports, including a criminal report.

Its gratifying to see the police lts. comments.

"Subject A responded with a quick and precise accounting of events which was proven accurate."

Later the lab report...

"Evarischinolase mixed with a mild anticoagulant Cedveribos was imbedded on the tip of the dart in a quantity sufficient to strongly affect a human adult female, and marginally affect a human adult male. The chief use of Ev. is as a truth drug (in accordance with court order), or as a sedative for certain mentally ill patients with excessive intransigence. The use of Cd. seems to be for the purpose of insuring a more rapid spread throughout the affected body system. "

PT

Thank you, Lily.  Three eggs, please, any way but raw.  Mind if I read while I eat?  This looks like the results from last night's activity.

I finished the report after telling Lily what had happened last night.  I appreciated the fact that the Lt was trying to keep my name out of the official reports.  So, it was another attempted kidnapping?  Brute force didn't seem to work.  The bomb, if it was meant for me, didn't get me.  Now, an another attempt to make me much more complient with a pressurized drug dart.  Someone was spending a lot of time, effort, and probably money to get me out of the picture.

Lily, it looks like someone tried to inject me with a drug to make me sleepy so that they could grab me and do bad things to me.  The eggs were good.  Do you get a chance to practice cooking very much?  The kid was a better cook than I was.  My scrambled eggs were either burnt or just vulcanized.

I drained the dregs from my cup of cold coffee.  Do you remember that I asked you to see if you could 'turn on' the switch in my head which controls the kind of things your family can do?  If you could, this would be a great time to try it.  I don't think these bad people are going to give up and I could really use your help.

"Grandfather raised me, and he is always insisting that I learn to do things to my best, and he always thinks my best is a lot more than I thought it was."

She slips the three egg omellete with ham and cheese onto your plate, and then walks back to get her own.

"Grandfather has like this big list of things that he says every person should know, and in fact, I'm like this guinea pig. He tests making me learn something, and if he likes how it works out, he puts it into practise in the schools or stuff."

You finish your food, and then she gets you a large pillow to sit on, and another one for herself.  She puts both down in the sunroom, and gives a message to the guards that they should not be disturbed for an hour.

You both sit down cross-legged facing each other, and she reaches out with her hand, while closing her eyes. You hear some thumps, and then water running,a nd then two glasses of water float across the room to land, one at your, and one at her, right hands.

"There's a few things I need to tell you first. One, not everyone can do it. Even Latents are sometimes blocked. Two, what you saw may seem creepy, but its not at all.  Its not supernatural.  Some people say the fact that all of the Velasquaz's have high esper means we're 'touched by Lilith'."

Your hostess makes a face.

"Yeah, whatever. Its just something you do.  You tell the right part of your brain, and it collapses quantum states for you, and telekinesis. Just like moving your arm."

Then she turns serious.

"Last. It can be dangerous. Especially pyrokinesis. Vincenzo got himself burned so badly that not even Marinna could heal him.  But even astral travel, well stretch the silver cord too far, and you're not coming back.  Worse, often the first break through can be...especially dangerous."

PT

I smiled at Lily.  In the past couple of days, I've been attacked by kidnappers.  I've also leaped off of a third floor balcony carrying a really cool little girl to avoid being blown up by a bomb.  Last night, I avoided being shot by a hidden pressurized narcodart.  You are warning me that this can be dangerous?  I'll risk it if you will.

She takes you hand in hand, and then tells you to meditate on something relaxing.  Once, you are in a state of enforced calm, she extends a mental fishook, and at the same time prepares her bait.

An image forms in your mind of how she reads a mind's surface thoughts. And you're aware that it is of yourself. For a moment, its dizzying, like looking into a mirror with infinite regressions, and you start to turn away, but then you realize thats not the right way.

So you fall into the mirrors, being spun upside down, and inside out even as she keeps showing you the image of how to reach another mind.  Until finally, its easier for part of you to wake up, and snatch the proffered solid ground of another's thoughts than be spun one more time.

And you reach out, but with a crick in the reaching, a zig instead of a zag....

You're spinning wildly in absolute darkness, and then you hear a female voice....

"In the Beginning was the Dream, and the Dream was Made Real." And then you're falling past the female voice, and laying in a pool of warm water with a stench of petrol, and hot asphalt, and the murmur of people nearby.

PT
OOC: Why yes, that was a botch.

Groan...  Groan...  My head hurts in places I never knew it had.  My whole body feels as it were torn apart and reassembled by chimpanzees.  I smell gasoline.  Maybe someone kind will come along and set me on fire so I can feel better.  I need to move.  I know, I'll move on three.  One...  Two...  Two and a half...  Two and three quarters...  Thr...

I attempt to sit up and immediately realize that this was sooooo not a good thing to do.  A wave of nausea overcomes me and I violently vomit the ham and cheese omellete, the coffee, the toast, everything I've eaten for the previous week, and my toenails out onto myself, the street, and anything and anyone near me.  If I thought I had the strength left to lift the Glock, I'd just shoot myself in the head.

After a few more moments, I begin to try to pull myself together.

This was sooo not a good transition.

You hear a number of boots running up to you, and look up in time to see three men, in what look vaguely like Brasilian National Army uniforms stop in front of you.  One is armed with an M-16, another with an Uzi, and the last with a pump shotgun.

They are all aimed at you.

They are yelling at you in Spanish in a furious tone.

And then the leader, the very guard who had helped you with the bomb, Emilio, cuffs the others into silence.

"English, yes, you speak English. Tell me how you got to Senor Velasquaz's estate."

You look beyond them, and see the cottage, but much diminished in size and splendor (although its still very nice), and you're in the driveway in a pothole.

PT

Senor... Velasquaz's... estate?  I shook my head to try to clear it.  Shaking it really didn't help me any.  I was sitting on the floor in the cottage with Lily.  She was showing me something and the next thing I know, I'm here not looking or feeling my best and having guns pointed at me.  I thought about trying to stand, but this pothole was just so comfortable at the moment.  Maybe you could send someone to find Lily and tell her that I'm out here?

"Senor Velasquaz will be very happy to talk to you.  Tell me, where is Lily?"  He bends down, and acts solicitous, and actually concerned with you, but its a terribly poor act. Something in his eyes makes you shiver.

"Take her." The other two grab you by the arms, and start dragging you up the lawn.  You pass where the sunhouse should be, but instead there's a pool with about a dozen bikini-clad beauties.

One eyes you with insectile lack of concern, as if seeing people, mud-stained, and ill, getting man-handled was a regular occurrence.  She reaches over for her drink, and sips  a bit.

PT

I don't have the energy to resist, so...

They drag you into the house, and toss you with no concern for your well-being, into a small windowless room.  It has a drain in the center of its tiled floor, and plastic sheeting on its walls.

Somehow, the room seems to shriek at you, as if you can hear it weeping in your mind.

The door slams shut, and you can hear a bar being dropped on the outside.

Ten minutes pass, and you feel adequate to sit up.  The door opens, and Emilio says with a sadistic smile.

"Senor Velasquaz will be here within the hour. Along with the lovely Marinna.  He really wants to know what you people have done with his granddaughter."

PT

This is soooo not right.  The buildings are different.  The people are different.  It's like I died and I'm in another world.  Maybe I did die and this is another serial reincarnation world.  I sit in the center of the room and take several deep breaths to clear my mind.  My old martial arts instructor called it "regaining balance".  I could really use some balance about now.

As I breath slowly and deeply, I try to free my mind of all external thoughts.  I try to reach out with my mind to see if I can touch Lily.

You sit there, gradually getting more and more centered, feeling calm wash away concerns, and then even calm fade away.

A quirky thought rises up.  Your instructor would be proud of you now.  But, its deftly examined, and put aside, and you resume the meditation with your legs crossed.

Three times, you try, each time, taking apart fear of failure, and then desperation, and sinking deeper into trance, and then....

*Misty! Misty, you're all right. I thought I killed you. You fell through a hole in the world.*

Its Lily's mental voice.

PT

Contact!  I had to keep my measured breathing rate and my focus.  I tried to send my thoughts to answer Lily.  Almost, but not quite.  Can you get me out of here?

"I..." Swirling, tumbling sensation, and then utter darkness, and a sensation of earth-shattering power surrounding you, filling the void.

"Fiat Lux!" You hear a feminine voice cry out in a tone of absolute command.

And then you're sitting on the kitchen floor about forty feet from where you first started this adventure.  And the air smells clean, and you see a maid turn look at you, and throw a plate in the air, and it shatters at your feet.  It has dried eggs on it.

"Lilith and all her family protect me!"  The maid cries out in alarm, and bolts from the room.

Lily comes tearing into the room, and throws herself on your lap.

PT

Since she caught me by surprise and I'm still recovering from my first psychic blip, we go sprawling on the floor.  I gave her a reassuring hug.  I think it helped both of us to feel better.  It is good to see you, too, Lily.  I think we're both going to need a shower, though.  I am happy to find that the transition back was nowhere as painful as the one which got me there, wherever 'there' was.  I guess that was the difference between a controlled move and a random one.  Who helped you bring me back?  I owe you both a great deal, as in my life.  Even though I was only there for a little while, I learned that it wasn't a very nice place.  I decided to not tell Lily about her other self being kidnapped.

As I held Lily, I did wonder, though, how I could feel the walls of my cell 'weeping'.

"Ewwww. You're right. But I'm afraid we'll have to wait. Storm."

You hear a krack-ka-boom outside, and then the drenching of water hitting the roof from a thunderstorm.

"Bad weather suddenly came up. It might be a tropical storm."  Lily says standing up, and surveying her now dirty clothes.

"Eww. Just eww. Lets go get changed at least."  She walks to the door of the kitchen, and then turns back to you with a puzzled look on her face. "Nobody helped me. It was just me.  I didn't have time to ask for help from the others."

PT

I opened the front door.  I really need a shower and there's one right outside.  Come on.  Have you ever gone dancing in the rain?  We can get our shower and have fun, too.  Are you going to go out with me?  I stepped out into the storm, laughing as the rain fell on me.

She stares at you, and then giggling comes charging out into the rain with you as you both dance under the cleansing water.  The guards keep their eyes peeled your way as they wait nice and dry under their protective awnings.

Later, you and her get dressed in new, dry clothes, and she asks you if you are interested in learning more.

"I think you made the breakthrough. I mean you called out to me. Even though I was looking for you, you still called."

PT

A chill ran down my spine as Lily asked me if I wanted to continue.  I took a deep breath.  I let it out slowly.  Lily, after what happened the first time, I'm not going to tell you that I'm not a little scared.  But, I've been doing things which have scared me all of my life.  I trusted this little girl with my life.  I wondered if what I was about to tell her was such a good idea.  Lily, you can sense when someone is telling the truth, right?

I gave her a moment to get ready.  OK, I took a moment to get myself ready.  Lily, do you remember the funny looking rifle that the sporting goods clerk managed to find a case to hold?  I got that rifle while I was working for the military aboard a starship travelling to another star system.  Look at me and see that it is true.  I have tiny little machines inside me which help me to do things a little better than a lot of other people.  Marinna has seen them.  Those little machines helped us escape the bomb blast.

I gave her a moment to try to comprehend what I was telling her.  What I'm trying to say is that I am not afraid of danger.  I'm also telling you about myself because I'm trying to show you that I trust you with my life.  I'm ready to continue whenever you are.

She takes you to another part of the cottage, and has you sit in a sofa.  Then she projects into your mind an image of how to read surface thoughts.  The first time nothing, but the second time...

*Come on, Misty, you can do it! All right, she did it.  Yay.*

There is some further testing as she shows you how to ask questions in order to trigger the thought answer in someone's mind, and with the cooperation of some of the help, you experiment with one of the landry women.

It works too, but you're not sure what the lady is thinking because although she talks in American, she thinks in Brasilian.

PT

This is so strange... very cool, but strange.  I don't know how else to describe it.  I've seen and read all kinds of science fiction and horror about psionics, but I never imagined that I'd ever have any psi powers.  But then, I never figured on bouncing among worlds, either.

Lily, it works!  Wow!  This is amazing!  I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you for this.  This is soooo wild!  It really was wild.  I could have used this mind reading thing on some investigations... and some dates, too.

Its like hearing a voice from the next room is the closest thing that it feels like, but knowing that it comes from the person you are looking at.

And you do have to make separate skill checks for each person each time.

"This is only the beginning. One other is this..."

She closes her eyes, and suddenly there is a feeling of watchfulness in the room, as if someone is looking at you.  But this feels female, a young girl, you decide without much mental effort.

"Thats clairvoyance. Its neat being able to look at the Sun as it rises over the Atlantic Ocean...from orbit. Course thats tricky even for me to 'clair' that far away and high up. I kept being afraid I'd fall."

PT

This was all so new.  When you 'clair', is it like that the astral thing with the cord?  I didn't want to get confused, well, any more confused than I already was.  I remembered about last night.  Lily, last night I felt like I was being watched just like you are watching now.  Last night, it felt like a man was watching me.  I thought it was some kind of a hidden camera, but I didn't find one.

All of a sudden, my stomach let out a loud growl.  I didn't know how long we had been at this, but I suddenly realized that I was famished.  Breakfast was great, but it didn't stay with me.  Lily, could you use a bite to eat?  I think getting some food might be a good idea.  Maybe we could restart after lunch?

"Clairvoyance and astral travel are connected. Not quite sure how. Its like one is walking and the other is running and hopping. Clairvoyance is a lot safer, I think, but sometimes people can tell if you're watching them easier with it than with astral travel.  I don't know who could have been clairing you because most of the clairs in the country are in my family, at least the really good ones."

She looks a bit troubled, and then puts it aside.

"Okay, lets eat."  The guards aren't super happy, but they let you both out, and she takes you to a nearby seafood restauraunt that overlooks the sea from a cliff.  Outside, on the deck, you can feel the sea breezes, hear the crash of surf, and smell the grilling sea bass the joking cook down at the other end of the deck is making.

"Just a minute, ladies. Got to make sure its properly burnt first. Tell me, do you think I ought to add a cup or just half a cup of salt?"  He calls out to you two.  The others in the restauraunt look up, smile, and go back to eating.

I took the extra few moments before we left to finially strap on my weapons rig for the day and to give each of my items a quick check.  I hadn't worn the gear during breakfast or when I popped into the hole between worlds.  When I got back, I was a little shakey and gross and didn't put it on then, or after cleaning up.  Now, I was fully dressed.

As we traveled to the restaurant, I tried to explain to Lily my need to wear my weapons all the time.  Lily, I used to be a policewoman.  I know how to use these tools to protect myself and those around me, like you.  I never want to hurt anyone, but if it comes down to having to hurt a bad person or have that bad person hurt someone like you, you know what I have to do.

The restaurant was beautiful.  The view of the ocean was even more breathtaking.  Lily was a little disappointed when I insisted that we not sit right at the edge of the cliff.  Strange things have been happening, lately, Lily, and I don't want to take any chances that we don't need to take.  I had momentary flashes of small boats with rocket launchers and sniper rifles zeroing in on us.  I knew that it was a touch irrational, but it had been a strange couple of days.

I let Lily order for both of us.  My idea of fish comes between two halves of a burger bun, slathered with tarter sauce.

Lily nods.

"Grandpa explained this to me.  How letting a bad person kill me was wrong.  He said I should try to subdue them, but I was to protect myself and any others with me.  Of course, I wouldn't have been able to do that with a bomb. I'm not that strong. Even Ricardo is not that strong, and he's the strongest telekinetic in the family. I'm of course, the second."

You sit down and enjoy the asparagus spears, the rice pilaf and the sea bass with the iced tea, and with Lily telling you jokes, especially knock-knock jokes.

And then suddenly she speaks more seriously.

"You told me you came from another world.  Now I don't much like going to church, but they all say the only other worlds are the Dark Between the World and the Land of Pain which is a really evil place.  Now of course, there is the Paradise of Lilith which is supposed to be guarded by angels. Are you one of those angels?"

PT

I took a sip of iced tea to buy myself a few moments.  Lily, you are not the first person to ask me that question.  The first person was a barbarian named Ban-Sidar who came to claim our crashed starship as his salvage.  Now I'm not sure how you define angels, but I'm flesh and blood like you.

I took another sip of tea.  I was born on a world a lot like this one.  I was a member of the Army working in their police department.  An amazing accident happened to me and I seem to have this gift of going to a different world when I die.  For lack of a better term, I call it 'serial reincarnation'.  When I go somewhere, I try to do more good than harm.  I'm not sure that it makes me an angel, but I do the best that I can.

I wasn't comfortable about this, so I tried to change the subject a little.  Lily, when you look up at the sky at night, you see a zillion stars.  There's a zillion more out there that you can't see without help.  Each one of those points of light is a star like your sun.  A lot of those stars have planets just like the ones in your solar system.  Could life have only developed on one planet in the entire universe?  I think Lilith says yes.  I'm not saying that Lilith is wrong.  I'm just saying that I'm soooo not from around here.

Great...  I'm inadvertently attempting to destroy a little girl's faith in Lilith.  Maybe I should just shut up now.

"Maybe thats what an angel is, Misty.  Just a person trying to do the right thing in a strange place with strange gifts. I've read the Book of Lilith, and it didn't really say exactly what the angels were.  Other than they were there to protect Lilith and the walls of Paradise from the Dark and the Servants of Pain."

She sips on her straw some more.

"I guess we know the Dark is real since I and you pulled you out of it."

She looks a little glum.

"Logically that makes it more likely Lilith is real. Which I don't really like. I'm not like most people around here. I only go to church because I have to."

But her mood picks up when you start telling her about the zillion stars, and soon she is openly laughing at your great joke.

"Misty, everyone knows the points of light in the sky are holes in the Sack of Space through which light beams.  Religious people say its the Light of Paradise, and scientists say its the Primal Scream which created the universe and is still radiating.  Its complicated. Really. Something about how space-time is an expanding sac, and that the outer edges move slower in time, and thus haven't all cooled down yet."

She tells you how complicated it is, and how she hates studying it, and then she spends the next hour explaining in great detail all the varied theories of the universe's formation.

One point you do gather from this onrush...the universe is supposed to be precisely one lightyear across, and Earth is at the dead center of it.

PT
OOC: Not to stress your brain even further, but there is a great difference between the "demon" predators that Ban-sidar worshipped, and the angels of Lilith.

OOC: But the concept of "powerful being from beyond" is still valid.

BIC:  Ohhhh... Kaaay...  So it wouldn't do me any good to look up the local version of NASA.  At least I'm getting the condensed, or maybe not so condensed, version of the Lilith viewpoint.  I'll have to be careful.  I'd really hate to become this world's version of Copernicus.

Thank you, Lily, for explaining that to me.  I've never heard it done so well.  You must be a very good student.  I do think we'd better be getting back before the guards think we've run away or something.  I paid for the meal and left a generous tip, since we had been there so long.

We started our walk back.  I missed not having a car, but I know that it would be a really bad idea to have my name show up on any more documents than absolutely necessary while borrowing my Northern counterpart's identity.  Documents...  Oh no.  I'm supposed to sign some papers at the bank today.

Lily, I need to go to town to sign some papers at the bank.  Then, do you want to help me do some shopping?

Lily's enthused by the prospect of shopping.  And she plans the expedition as you both walk back.  You guide her out of the more silly ideas, and arrive at the cottage with her yawning.

She takes her nap, and you go to the bank.  Once there, Senor Esteban opens up a safe deposit box, and pulls out a number of display cases.  In them are set a wide variety of high-quality sparklies. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, saphires, turquoise, amethysts, and opals.

"The whole lot is five hundred thousand. Next door, I have the jeweler, and he can tell you more.  You of course, don't have to buy it all."  Then he raises hand, to forestall any comment.

"I have some very good news. It seems Sampson is looking for a new spokesperson to intro this new food, and they want you.  They are in rather a rush, and they want you to fly to Hollywood, and do some screen checks. Its fifty k even if they turn you down. More, and a small slice of the profits if you get the job. The president of Sampson was rather insistent on you. Enthused about how it would be part of a good story for the food, and that you had made a good impression on him and the other CEO's, and that since you were an American that would help too."

When you ask when they want to do it, he says two days from now they want you in Hollywood.

PT

Hollywood?  Two days?  Spokesperson?  My head was spinning from the shock.  I needed a lot of things, not all of them available at the local mall.  I took a deep breath.  What was I thinking of?  I can't be a spokesmodel or whatever you call them here.  I don't officially even exist here.  Well, don't just sit there, you have to say something.

Senor Esteban, you have taken me by surprise.  I had no idea.  I need a moment.  I needed a lot more than that moment.  Still, the way I was going to be spending money, a job interview worth 50K might not be a bad thing.  Do you recall that I had lost my travel documents and my operational funds when I had first arrived?  I will need some documentation to be able to travel.  How difficult would it be to get a local drivers licence, passport, and travel documentation for my weaponry all in the name of Misty Reynolds?  I realize that there would be some fees required to expedite the paperwork. I know this request might seem strange, considering that I am an American.  It's just that I consider Buenos Aires my home more after just a few days, than all the time spent up North.

Lily was going to be in shock when I told her why we needed to go shopping.  Oh, and the gems are fine.  Close the deal, por favor.

"With the assistance of such a man as Senor Sampson, it should not be hard. We will rush it, and I will charge you the applicable fees.  We should have it by noon tommorrow, so get your flight scheduled for tommorow afternoon, and you should be good."

He smiles, and then closes the gems, and has you sign off on it.  The jeweler comes in, and takes the relevant papers.  He seems mildly disapointed that he cannot 'sell' you on them, but the money cheers him greatly.

He bows, and offers his services any time, and then leaves.  You are escorted to the front door by Senor Esteban, and then let out into the bright day.

Lily is surprised, and a little depressed, but you reasure her you'll be back very soon, so she musters a smile, and helps you spend more than you had planned on since you want to have available the perfect dress for the occasion.

The next day...

PT

I arranged with Senor Esteban to place my laser rifle, scabbard, and charge clips in a safety deposit box at the bank.  I had to take it apart a bit, but I got it in.  I didn't want to explain a functional laser rifle to the customs people.

I booked a flight for four PM tomorrow afternoon.  I figured that would give me enough time to get everything done.

In the morning, I was really on edge about this Hollywood thing.  So, I did want I usually did to relax.  I went to the shooting range.  I needed to familiarize myself with my new MP7A1 SMG anyway, so I told myself that it wasn't playing, I was actually working.

It wasn't too hard to get a guard to show me to the range and work with me on the basics of the little personal defense weapon.  The little subgun is as close to perfect as anything I've ever fired.  It has twenty round mags for holster use and forty round mags for getting serious.  It has low recoil, like a .22 LR. autoloading pistol.  It is the right size for when you have to work close.  This smg even has a 200 meter effective range for when you need to hit something farther away.  I didn't get a chance to test this part out, but the guard said that the round also has great armor penetration.  The only downside is that even if it does fit in its own holster, there is no way you can conceal this large pistol under anything less than a trenchcoat.

I thanked the guard profusely and snagged some ammo to replace what I burned on the range.  I spent a half hour cleaning, ok... polishing the cool little smg.  Then I replaced everything away in my backpack.

It was time for my trip to the bank.  I was still wearing my usual weapon harness.  I carried my suitcase with my new clothes and my backpack containing my usual things to the door when I saw the limo waiting for me.   I has a few minutes to spare, so I decided to call Senor Esteban to thank him for arranging the limo.

"It is nothing, a little trifle. De nada. But remember me when you are famous, and big star,si?"  He chuckles, and wishes you well on the trip.  You leave in the limo, and it smoothly takes you to the North Buenos Aires Int'l Airport.

Once there, you board something like a Concorde, but named the Amazon Express, and painted in a jungle theme, and soon you're rocketting out over the Atlantic.  The whole experience was very smooth and easy getting through customs.

In flight, the movie shows a depressed Meg Ryan deciding to chuck her NYC job, with the everpresent clouds, and the Seasonal Affective Disorder that every other person in the movie suffers from, and go to Brasilia to be an artist on the beach with Tom Hanks, and to of course, take many hits of cocaine on the way.

And then you arrive at LAX. You step out, and indeed, the sky is overcast, the people do look glum, and there is a squad of black-coated DEA agents running up to intercept everyone as they get off the plane.  It takes an hour for you to get through customs, and you seem to have been lucky since there was no strip search.  Although three people are hauled off to jail for having traces of illegal substances in their blood.  One is wildly protesting that he has a sinus condition, but the DEA agents are laughing at this.

PT

That went well...  As I clear customs, I look to see if anyone is holding up a card with my name on it.  I figure that if Sampson is so interested in my being here they would have someone here to meet me.  The Hollywood I'm familiar with was a big place.  I have no idea how it is in this version.

Either they didn't send one, or I didn't see one.  I spent a few unsuccessful minutes looking for a currency conversion place.  I settled for hitting an ATM for a couple of hundred dollars.  Rather than carry both bags, I found it was easier to wear the backpack and drag the suitcase along on its little wheels.  As I walked, I kept an eye on the people walking around me.  I looked for signs that people were walking around armed.  I ended up at a coffee shop where I watched the crowd while having a couple of microwaved fried egg sandwiches and a small bottle of orange juice.

I also took the time to check out the rest of the documents which Senor Esteban had handed to me.  I was looking for something to give me an idea of my next stop, like maybe when and where to be to meet the Sampson people.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:16, Sun 08 Jan 2006.

There are a large number of people walking around armed, mostly with pistols at the hip.  A goodly number of them have Texas-sized cowboy hats and boots on as well.

"Will Misty Reynolds please report to the information desk, her party is waiting...Will Misty Reynolds please....."

The intercom blares a couple of times, as you leaf through the papers, and you jump, nearly dropping the papers.  A passing cowboy catches them with his hand, and hands them back to you.

He tips his hat, and gives you a small smile, and walks on.

You drag your pack over to the information desk, and see an older woman with a young man, both in Sampson Company dark blue sports coats.  Each has an embroidered Sampson Security on their coat, and a name tag.

"Melina" and "Robert".

Melina looks distressed.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Ms. Reynolds. There's been some sort of terrible mixup."  Robert takes your rolling pack with the dresses.  "You see, we're not even close to ready to roll out the product you provided us.  Its very fascinating, and the research teams have just begun.  I'm told they've not even opened them yet.  Have been using MRI and CAT scans and other things.  So we're really not ready to pick a celebrity spokesperson, although we will certainly have you on our short list when we do.  Mr. Sampson said to personally extend his apologies.  He acknowledges that it is his companies fault, and we're trying to get to the bottom of the cause of this mis-communication..."

You feel the airport receding away from as you, as a terrible feeling of foreboding swarms along the nerves of your neck, and settles into your stomach.


PT
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:54, Tue 10 Jan 2006.

I could feel the ball of ice forming in my stomach.  I had been royally set up.  This had to be from the big guy himself.  That's why my paperwork was expedited so quickly.  There wouldn't have been any need, otherwise.  He wanted me out of 'home' territory.  Think... First, get off of this bullseye.  Second, get armed.  Third, get away.

At least the situation is being resolved.  I'll just place my excess luggage in a storage locker, spend a few days not soaking up the sunshine on a small vacation, and head back home.  In the mean time...  I looked around.  I really need to powder my nose.  Would you excuse me?  I reached to get my other bag back.

Robert insists on carrying it over to the vicinity of the restroom for you, and unless you want to make things awkward that will have to do.  However, he surrenders it gracefully, and looking at his bland, bored countenance, you're pretty sure he's not hatching nefarious schemes.

He looks to be more interested in watching the pretty girls walk by, and counting the hours until he is off from work.

Melina is harder to read, but she does seem distressed.

You slip away, and into the restroom while they both wait outside.  Once inside, you see two girls sucking up some cocaine up there noses, and immediately relaxing, tension seems to ease from their faces.  Which is not exactly what you thought cocaine did.  It was more of a stimulant.

In any case, you're in the restroom, and they after giving you a surreptitious glance to see if you look 'cop', leave as well.  There is one person using a stall, but the door is shut.

PT

Darn, I wanted to ask them a question.  Oh well...  I went into the handicapped stall and closed the door behind me.  I didn't feel guilty.  Trying to get both bags and myself into a normal stall would have been difficult, at best.

Since I was in there, I took a few moments to aleviate the biologic backpressure which I really did have to take care of.  That part wasn't untrue.  I washed my hands, then went back into the stall.  I dug out my old friend, Glock, and my pre-traveling shoulder holster.  I slipped two reloads into the mag holder and the locked and loaded 17C into its second home.  I shrugged into it.  I dug out a black denim jacket to cover it up from my handlers.  Replacing the backpack, it took a little bit of adjusting to gain easy access to the pistol while wearing the pack.  I also slipped the snapstick into my left jeans pocket and a small mace canister into my right jeans pocket just in case.

Now I was properly, if not completely, dressed.  I headed for the bathroom door.

You make for the door, and exit into the airport hall.  Melina is talking on her cel phone with some animation.  Robert is reading a Newsweek magazine while standing there.

You notice a woman step past you, and a flick of your eyes to the right confirms she is carrying a small plastic baggie in her right hand, and a compact case in her right.  She's barely bothering to hide it, and her face is creased with what looks like a headache.

PT

I take a couple of deep breaths to relax and focus.  Then, I try to pick up Melina's surface thoughts as I did with the palace staff.

OOC:This could be good.  This could be really bad.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:00, Tue 10 Jan 2006.

For a second nothing, and then it sounds like you are picking up two people.  Quickly you realize its Melina deciding what to say, and what she is actually thinking.

You're impressed with the speed and clarity of her thoughts.  Its like jumping onto a roller coaster in mid-run.

*Yes, I understand Jerome Carpenter's computer--but this makes no sense, he would not betray Mr. Sampson, and if he did, he would not do so in such an obviously found out way---Ellen, I know you found the email on Jerome's computer, but I'd like you to check, oh, the last two months, yes, all the people who have had access to Jerome's PC.--Maybe someone put a virus on his PC to send a message to that banker Esteban, but why? I can't see any reason someone would want this front girl, even with her shadows-bedecked background dead except of course the food, she may have stolen it, and the real owners want it back, and they want to blame Sampson food somehow after she winds up dead---Just check it out, thoroughly, and do a double-check on M. Reynolds.  And make double sure that the product is guarded by two shifts of armed guards.*

You're also aware she's coming to totally the wrong conclusions.

PT

I let my focus on Melina lapse.  Well, I found out what I needed to know.  They aren't trying to kill me.  They are as puzzled as I am.  So, if I'm not on their target list, that still leaves the question of who went through all of this trouble to set this, and me, up.

To kill some time until Melina got off of the phone, I went over to talk to Robert.  Excuse me, I'd like to ask you a question.  Could you tell me about the local firearms laws?  I've seen a lot of people walking around armed and I was just wondering.  I kept checking the people passing by.  I didn't want to get caught flatfooted by anything hostile.

He puts down his Newsweek magazine on a nearby, uncomfortable looking hotel chair, and nods.

"Um, sure. Pretty much you can carry a pistol, or a revolver no problem. Um, no rifles, shotguns, or autopistols.  Tasers are okay, course. Me, I carry a small pistol, and a knife.  I conceal them, but a lot of people carry revolvers on their hips.  Course, most don't. They think the weight is too much, but I'm sort of security, and sort of go tote things guy so I carry. That help, Ms. Reynolds?"

Some people note you, but they appear to be casual glances, and nothing makes your detective senses go tingly.  But something is bothering you in the back of your mind.

PT

I smiled at Robert.  Thank you.  So, if there's no interview, may I ask what are you supposed to do with me?  I wasn't worried about these people at the moment.  What bothered me was why someone needed to get me into the other half of the world.

Something else was bothering me, too.  Somebody was in a bathroom stall when I went in.  I didn't hear the person leave.  The person was still there when I left and nobody has gone in or out since.  I felt a sudden urge to go and apply some of the makeup that Lily insisted that I needed for my trip.  Would you excuse me a moment?  I really feel the need to check my makeup before we go anywhere else.

Robert shrugs.

"The boss feels bad, and he's willing to have us take you to a resort for a week, or if you want to see the Grand Canyon or Vegas...no problem. Mr. Sampson said to treat you right, make up for this fiasco.  Or we can have Sampson One fly you back."

You nod, and then head back to the bathroom in time to see a woman emerge from the bath stall.  Her face is a mild shade of green, and snot is coming from her nose, and her eyes are red.  She has a fistful of drugs and another fistful of toilet paper in her hand which she sneezes into.

"Yindbhowneshan Flug. Aagh." She says, and then you decipher it.  "Indonesian Flu. Aagh."  She looks at you. "Undercooked peacock. But I got the sale, and now I'm going home to lay down and think about dying."

She trudges your way like a semi truck starting up.

PT

I quickly get out of the woman's way and head back to Robert.  I look fine.  Will you both be flying back on Sampson One, too?If they're not going on the plane, I'm taking commercial transportation.  If I'm not the target, maybe I was next to the target and kept getting in their way, like with the bomb at the palace.  Maybe the target is Lily?

They both tell you they'll fly with you, and you've cleared customs again, and boarded Mr. Sampson's Lear Jet, and are about to sit down when....

*MISTY!!!!* A shriek of fear rips through your mind.  Its Lily's mindvoice you note as you jerk in the throes of some sort of fit.

"Hold her, Robert!"  You hear Melina yell, as you see the carpeting aproach your face, and you can't do anything to stop and cushion yourself. Robert then lands on top of you, pressing the air from your lungs, and pinning your arms with his two hundred plus pounds.

And then blessed silence followed by an echoing void tinged with fear in your head.  You have control of your body again.

PT

Get...   Off...  Of...  Me...  NOW!  Once Robert got his body off of mine, I slowly got up and sat in my seat.  I did accept the offered glass of water, but nothing stronger.  I took a sip, then set the glass down.  It was time to get back to work.

How do you feel about El Presidente and his family?  I waited for their expected responses, then continued.  I was spending some time with Lily, El Presidente's granddaughter.  I was kind of an unofficial bodyguard.  I believe that this rushed trip to the North was a ruse to get me away from her.  I have a few questions.  You are probably not going to like them and will like having to give the answers even less.  Do you know who helped expedite my paperwork to make this rushed trip possible?  Who was it that told you to take me out for a week of sightseeing?  How many people in your organization have the ability and security codes to spoof a false message on a co-worker's computer?

I took another sip of water.  I'm too far away to help Lily now.  When we land, it will be an entirely different story.

Of course, if something happens to her and I find out that you've had something to do with it, no matter how small a part...

Roberts never met them, but he thinks they seem like nice people.  Melina, is a Senior VP, and she's met El Presidente a few times, and some of his family.  She almost gushes about the President, and says his family seems mostly pretty nice, and definitely talented.

Melina tells you that part of it must have come from El Presidente.  But, probably at the request of Sampson Food, or someone masquerading for them.  She gets on the cel phone, and tells some people to check into that.

Mr. Sampson told them to take you out for a week, if you wanted it.  It was his way of apologizing for the mix-up.

Robert and Melina talk about your question, and then Melina tells you that probably a couple dozen.  Including her.

"That includes other exec assistants of the presidents, about half the senior execs in the VP pool...the other half doesn't know how to use computers...I do...also tech support....also the upper ranks of the IT staff....hmmmh, maybe three or four dozen....I didn't realize we were that open and unsecure.  Mr. Sampson is in the clear, like the four top presidents because all of them have problems with computers...only Jorgenson is good enough to even type his own emails."

When you make your threat, Robert glares at you for a second, doubling up his large fist, looking like he's hungering to knock your block off.  Melina touches his arm, and gives you a sharp-eyed glance.

"A reasonable point of view."

PT

I smiled at them.  The fact that you're helping try to sort this out puts you way down on the suspect list.  Don't ask me how I know, but I do know that something has happened to Lily.  When we land, I'm going to go through whoever and whatever necessary to get her back and pay back those who harmed her.  That's not a vow.  That is a fact.  I gave them a moment to let that sink in.

You are going to try a background check on me.  I would if I were you.  You will find that I do not show up anywhere until about a week ago.  There is a Teri Reynolds, but no Misty Reynolds.

You three soar into the air, and before you get very high the light outside is brighter.

"Ah, the ecclipse is over.  I thought when I saw you in the fit that you were sensitive to light changes since the eclipse had just started."  Melina comments, and then later she asks a question.

"So why no Misty Reynolds?"

PT

Why, indeed...  I think the next part of this conversation would be held best be held just between us girls.

I turned to Robert.  Could I have a cup of coffee, freshly brewed?  And would you mind staying with the coffee pot to insure that it works properly.  I smiled at Robert just to make him cranky.  It was petty, I know, but oh so much fun.  My ribs still hurt from when he tackled me.

Once he left, I continued.  And Melina, would you please shut off all recording and communication devices?  I had no way of verifying whether she did or not, but I had to give it a shot.

Once I heard her state that the devices were off, whether true or not, I began.  Actually, I've been Misty Reynolds all of my life.  It just hasn't been here.  The best way of putting it is that I've been touched by Lilith.  I wake up in different places and have to figure out what I am supposed to do and who I am supposed to help.  The reason no one here has seen those self-heating meal packs before is because I picked them up on my last stop.  I sold them to get operating capital and to pick up supplies which I might need for my next stop.  You see, when I leave this place, I'll go somewhere else to help someone there.

Robert nods, his face blank, apparently he's used to being dismissed.  Melina tells you they are already off, and you launch into your story.

"Here?" Melina looks at you.  "Just what does here mean? According to theology, there are the three worlds, or four. The World, the Land of Pain which is sometimes associated with the Dark Between the Worlds, and sometimes separate.  And Lilith's Paradise.  Well, actually, there is that one reference in Songs out of Shadows 4:12 to 'many fruit on the tree from which Lilith plucked her fruits.'  Its always been pretty cryptic. Even the best theologians were only guessing on it.  Some people argue that it means dolphins are intelligent, and Lilith's chosen as well.  I took a class in In-depth Theology in junior year in college.  Whoah, I'd thought math was hard."  She thinks some more.

"According to the latest scientific theory, there are nine dimensions.  Plus eleven, plus two, plus two.  Its way over my head, but I did hear that it agreed with theology.  Made a big uproar two years ago when Dr. Rodriquez said he had found the Land of Pain with his supercollider."

"Of course, my son reads science fiction, and sometimes tales of alternate worlds where Brasilia and America don't exist, and other weird stuff like that."

"So, clarify please."

PT

I am sooo not good at this.  This is going to be difficult for you.  Maybe you should borrow your son's science fiction collection when we get back.  There are a lot more dimensions than you could possibly imagine.  Each dimension is it's own universe.  Every so often, I get shifted from one universe to another where I land near some nexus point in their timeline.  I don't know how I was selected for this, but I was.  When I get to a new place, I do what I can to make it a better place to live.  In your dimension, it looks like I am here to help Lily, El Presidente's granddaughter.  Maybe she has some important role in Brasilia's future.  I don't know.  I'm not a scientist or any kind of genius.  I don't discover or create things.  I'm a detective.  I find bad guys and bring them in.  That's what I do.  And I need your help to find out what happened to Lily.

She blinks.  For a moment her face is easy to read. You're either some vast weirdness, or crazier than a Fruit Loop.  Then her face shuts down, and she nods.

"We certainly can find out about Lily.  I'll go talk to the pilot, you can come as well, if you're up to it."

You follow her up to the cockpit, past Robert who's standing by the coffee machine, and meet the pilot.  He seems competent, and alert as does his co-pilot.

Melina asks for a phone call to Brasilia Main HQ, and puts it on the speaker phone.

"Lily? Ah, we've heard that there has been an attack on her.  Some reports say a rocket attack.  She's been taken to President Honor Hospital, ICU.  The family has gathered, and El Presidente has suspended gov't business for the day.  We haven't tried to find out more, other than putting our security forces on alert, since we didn't want to get in the way of the federal security forces.  By the way, you should check your weather.  There's a substantial tropical storm brewing off the coast.  If I was you, I'd reconsider flying in."

The exec on the other end of the phone pauses.

PT

Melina, I hope this validates some part of what we were discussing earlier.  That was as close to 'I told you so' as I thought I could get away with.  I'm not a pilot, so I don't know about flying through bad weather.  I trust your judgement.

Melina nods, accepting your point.  And the pilot grimaces, but after Melina speaks quietly to him, he sighs.

"We can press on.  Ordinarily, I wouldn't, but it should be safe.  Just a lot bumpy.  So, ladies, if you would, sit down, and strap in, and the vomit bag is in the pocket behind the seat."

He says the last with a touch of gallows humor, even as he tightens the straps for his seat, with the co-pilot following his action, and then the both of them pressing the engines up to three-fourths power.

"We're going to be climbing, try to get over the worst of it."  He yells in the suddenly noisy cockpit.

PT

I go back and buckle myself into the seat securely.  Melina must have taken me seriously enough for her to press the issue of going straight in with the pilot.  I'm sure that she has more questions, but I wonder if she will ask them with Robert around.

Robert dumps out the coffee, and gets himself buckled in as well.  Melina looks at you, considers asking a question, and then shrugs.

You fly into the storm.  The plane shudders, and skips as it inclines upward.  Finally, you are above the storm.

"Twenty thousand angels, and we are now five thousand feet above the storm."  The captain says sounding happy.

You look out the window, and see far below white as far as the eye can see.  It seems to be moving fast.

Melina checks the Weather Channel on a television on the back of a chair.

"Tropical Storm Victor has just been upgraded to a F1 Hurricane, and it looks like it may be heading upwards.  Small boats advisories for the Mid-Atlantic, and public flights are going to be shunted around.  It looks like its going to make landfall in Brasilia in twenty hours."  The blonde on the tv explains in American.

PT

While it's relatively calm, I begin my deep breathing exercises.  Once I've centered myself, I reach out with my mind to see if I can find Lily.  I want to tell her that I'm on my way back.

You reach out to Lily, and don't find her where you expect.  But as you seem to drift dreamlike through the cottage, you hear her laughter just ahead in the next room.  You follow her, but she's always one room ahead of you.

And the rooms are trashed.  Horribly so.  Couches are slashed, lamps are tossed through windows.  Its not just a burglary, but viciousness on display.

A knife stabs into a picture of her family.

And then you come around the last corner, and you see the edge of the cliff before you, and what should be the sea.  But instead its the Dark Between the Worlds, and the back half of the house is sheared off.

To your left you see Marinna who is slowly sweeping up some of the dust bunnies from under the bed even as the room disintegrates.

PT

I have don't have time to spare to figure out what all this means, but Marinna in a disintegrating room can't be a good thing.  I reach out to Marinna.  Take my hand.  The room is falling apart.  We need to go.  Whether she takes my hand or not, somehow I know that I have to get out of where ever this here happens to be.

She looks startled and unhappy to see you, and her tears have completely destroyed her mascara.  Then she nods.

"Yes, yes, I suppose you're right. I tried to save her, but I can't. The damage is too much."  Marinna lets you draw her into the next room.

"I didn't know you had developed psi powers.  I guess Lily must have shown you how.  Do you have any powers of healing that could help Lily?"

PT

Too much damage?  Lily?  Healing powers?  Actually, until a few moments ago, I had never done this before.  I don't have any experience at this, but perhaps if you draw on my strength to aid you, you can help her.  Stuck in an aircraft as I was, this might be the only way that I could help Lily in time.

She shakes her head.

"No, I'm sorry. It won't help."  She heads to the front door which you remember entering as you started this trip into Lily's mind. "I think we both need to go back to our bodies."

Before we both leave, I tell Marinna this.  I have a very advanced first aid kit which could help her.  If you can keep her going until I get there, I'll do what I can to help her.

I then attempt to make it back to my own body by passing through the front door.

You make it back to your body, and you see Melina leaning over you with a look of concern on her face.  Air floods your lungs, and fills your body with relief.

"You were breathing very slowly."  Melina says.

And then the airplane pitches downwards.

Robert picks up the intercom to call the cabin, but he only gets a rock and roll radio song in return from the cabin.

---Even angels fall, all the way from Heaven, to shatter on the cold, they stall, their wings don't hold, and they crash through the roof of the mall....

Its a melancholy and eerie tune.  The plane continues to descend, and Robert goes to open the cockpit door.  Its locked.

--broken and battered, shattering glass, pretty little angel lass falls...

PT

I grab my lockpick set and shove Robert out of the way.  I get to work on the door lock.  I haven't had a lot of practice lately, but I'll bet that I'm way ahead of that stuffed shirt.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:34, Fri 20 Jan 2006.

Oh, indeed. Robert's kind of ...phlegmatic. Slow-acting. Also, while he's reasonably bright, he's not as smart as you or Melina.  Of course, big guys learn to move slow so as to avoid frightening the shrimp around them....

Fifteen seconds later, and the door is open. Its not really a serious lock, anyways.

You smell smoke, and when you look in you see the pilot is lolling in his chair, his face turned blue, and his co-pilot looks...like a cinder.  But the chair is not even blackened.

The gorge in the back of your throat rises as you look at the two dead men, and the radio plays on.

--even angels fall.  And that was by the request of someone by the name of 'Sorry, but it has to be done'.  I wonder what the story is there.  Anyways, now on to commercials with Ultrableach, your clothes not only smell cleaner, but they ARE cleaner...

PT

Note to self: Take piloting lessons.  I made a mental note of the time and the radio station.  If  When I got out of this, maybe I could track the phone logs at the station.  The pilot was less messed up than the co-pilot, so I ordered Robert to help me get him out of the seat.  I had to yell at Robert several times to get through to him.  I had to threaten to kill him myself to get him to finially move.

I sat down at the controls.  I used to occasionally play flight sim games on my office computer when the P.I. business was slow, but this was so very out of my league.  Still, what other choices were there.  I buckled myself in, tried to pull back on the yoke, and took a quick look at all of the controls, all the while wishing that there was a help button somewhere on which to click.

Robert, see if you can get the radio working.  We need some major help really soon.

Robert seems lost in thought, or in stasis until you start yelling at him.  After you start to unbuckle the body, he reaches over and lifts it up out of the way, and carries it, more drags it to one of the passenger seats.

It thumps into the floor at a bobble in the plane.

Robert curses, and Melina sticks her head in the door.

"Oh."

"Radio!" You yell.

"I don't think..."  Robert begins uncertainly.

"What?" You say surveying the controls trying to come up with a match to your memory.  You'd test flown a Lear on the game once, or twice, right?  Feeling frantic you hear Robert mumble.

"I don't think we want to use the radio. I'm..."  He flounders a bit, searching for words.

"Right. The only people who could do this are high-level psi's.  Most of those are in Brasilia in one family.  Although the KGB has some as well. And Madame Delores in Arizona is supposed to be able to lift a semi truck with her mind. Point Robert is searching for is if we draw attention to ourselves, whats to prevent them from pyrokinetically igniting the fuel in the tanks."  Melina says with quick calm in her voice while giving you a very hard look.  You figure she heard you threaten to shoot her protege/helper.  It doesn't seem to have bothered Robert though.

"Why didn't they just kill us then?" Robert asks puzzled.  "Just as easy to ignite fuel as it is to pyro a body."

PT

I'm way busier than I want to be, but I answer as best I can.  Maybe they needed the co-pilot's mind to focus on target or whatever.  Melina, can you fly this thing.  I've uhhhh... only trained in simulators and not much of that.  Well... it was kind of like simulating a simulator.

As close as I can figure, we're still generally headed for home.  If you can keep the plane level and going in this direction, I have an idea which might help us.  This might seem wierd, but it might work.  I was involved in a psi-war.  I couldn't help but wonder if I was a rifle or a WMD.

I gave my seat to Melina and went back to the middle point in the aircraft.  I sat on the floor and visualized a big thick rubbery mental balloon.  It didn't take me long to get my center.  As I practiced it, it got easier.  I inflated the balloon until it surrounded the whole aircraft.  Hopefully, anyone trying to reach the plane mentally would bounce off of my balloon.  I wondered if this was how Sue Richards did it.

Melina shakes her head.

"Last video game I played was Ms. Pacman at the arcade. And trying to be the first female CEO of Sampson while raising a family makes having other hobbies impossible. I work, watch TV with the family, and sleep."

Robert slips in to the seat nervously, and Melina has a few words of encourgement to calm him down..mostly on the order of.. you can do it, and besides, if you can't, you're certainly not going to make things worse.

He snorts, and begins to gently pull at the controls.

You sit in the thick carpetting cross-legged, and begin to visualize.  Melina comes back toting the parachutes, and a raft.  She drops a chute for you, and then gets a metronome from her luggage, and puts it in front of you.

Tick, tock, tick, tock...

It helps you drift...tick, tock...

Indeed, you have gotten better...the balloon begins, and then 'pops'.  You realize you're tired after that effort.  Encasing the whole plane in a broad-band defense shield is going to be tough.  Definitely on the WMD side of things.

You try and again fail, and then resurface.  Melina is studying you, trying to figure out a way to help you.

"We've levelled, a thousand feet above the storm. Robert's afraid to take it up since teh plane bobbles whenever he does."

PT

Not having a lot of other options at the moment, I keep at trying to get the balloon out there.

You get it up, and after that its the struggle of keeping it up.  It seems to be drawing vitality from you, and powers of concentration.  In some ways, its like holding a gun to the head of a known pschyopath, and just waiting for him to jump...but not for seconds, but for tens and twenties of minutes.

"Whatever you're doing helped. Robert says he doesn't see giant rocs about to eat the plane anymore.  I think whoever did this likes to play with people."

Some time later, you feel a plastic bottle being forced into your mouth, and you half-open your eyes as sweat drips off your nose and forehead, and your arms shake like you're holding up the planet.  Then Melina slips a pill into your mouth.

"Glucose. Sugar.  Thirty more minutes.  And then we'll be over the harbor."  She shoves in another pill, and you do feel better.  You know you could not have done this as Misty 1.0. Your implants have increased your endurance greatly.

Later, she comes back.

"Decision time. Misty. Land in the harbor, or jump out with a chute.  Unless you have a better plan.  Hurricane is going to make landfall in an hour.  We've outraced it."

PT

The sugar does help, a little.  not...  sure...  if... able...  to... survive...  water...  landing... and...  storm...  so... tired... let's... go... all...  the...  way...  home

OOC: Misty decides to go for the land landing aka the No guts, no glory option....

IC: Melina looks at you for a long moment, and then nods.

"Perhaps you're right. No prize for second place."  She spins on her heel, and goes to talk urgently to the 'pilot' who's heard to yell in disbelief and fear a couple times.  Something about "Are you crazy?!?"

Then Robert comes back to you, and you can see he is near petrified.  He lifts you up into a chair, and then rushes back to the cockpit as the plane starts to vibrate in bad ways.

Melina comes back, and buckles you in, and then packs parachutes and anything else around you.  She does the same for herself.

"Safest spot is over the wings."

Then a bit awkwardly, as if unused to it, she starts praying.

The plane bobbles and jostles as it gets lower, and you can hear Robert yelling.  With wings wobbling back and forth, you prepare to become a fireball, and then at the last second, level, and bump, and bounce almost losing your lunch as the plane skips twenty feet skyward, and another bounce, bounce, screech of tires, wobble of direction, and then you're slowing.

Boom.  A tire goes out.  More wobbles, and then a grinding creak, and the plane tilts forward, and slams to a halt.  The plane is tilted down at a thirty degree angle, and not moving.

"I'd get out. Flames." Robert yells laconically.  You feel a sudden surge of adrenaline hit your system from your implant....

PT

I grab my backpack and move toward the door.  The emergency door doesn't seem to want to open until I kick it as hard as I can a couple of times.  Door's open! Let's get out of here!  I lurch from the plane and just head away from it as quickly as possible.

Once I get to what I hope is a safe distance away, I drop my pack and head back to make sure that the others get out all right.  I'm not sure when the aircraft is going to blow, but I don't want my stuff in the blast radius.  I'm not that fond of having myself in the blast radius, either, but I owe it to my traveling companions to get them safe, if possible.  When I see them both out of immediate danger, I'll head back for my pack and try to make it to somewhere safe before I go into total meltdown.

You come back and help Robert who has a broken calf bone, and Melina who has a big knot on her forehead.  Once you get them clear of the steadily burning plane, the firetrucks race up, and are about to take your charges when...

WHOOMPH!  The ground ripples, and you find yourself flung into the side of the fire truck.  Melina is unconscious and Robert is groaning, and you're looking at a number of firemen who are all holding up their fingers asking you how many....

And you wake up feeling agonizing jolts hammer into you.  And then that fades.  You look down.  Surgeons in blue are arcing your heart with a defibrillator.

You're at the ceiling. And then there is another presence.

Lily.

She's right next to you.

PT

OOC: I misread the last Playtester post.  I'm fixing it now.

Looking down at myself is strange.  Looking at Lily floating next to me is even stranger.  I'm not dead, but it looks as if I could be soon.  I can't let that happen.  I don't know what would happen if my body transitioned while I wasn't in it.  I don't know if my body will even translate if I'm somewhere else.

Lily, go back to your body.  I will try to help you when I get back to mine.  I don't know if she can hear me.  I wait a moment to see if she answers.  I might not have more than that.

Next I try to fly to get back down to my body.  I try to sense my spirit's connection to it's dwelling place and use that to draw myself back into my body.  I keep reminding myself that I'm not done here yet.  I can't quit.  I can't leave.  I can't fail.  I have to get back in there.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:37, Thu 26 Jan 2006.

Lily nods, and then you push downward, but its hard.

Suddenly you hear from behind you a commanding voice.

"Go. Wake."

Without any seeming interval, you're in your body, and looking up at the surgeon who is about to shock you again.  Before he can jolt you, you grab his wrist.

While his eyes grow round, and nurses babble around you, you sit up.  You feel strong.  A nurse collapses in a dead faint next to you, and the surgeon stares at you in complete amazement.

"You--you--you--you were dd-ddead."

PT

Funny, I don't feel dead.  I looked down at my arms.  They had a lot of things plugged into and on me.  Maybe you could get these things out of me, please.  I feel fine.  I keep talking because I don't want them to try to figure out what happened or get the urge to ask me a bunch of questions.  Really, I'm a quick healer and I'd like these things out now.  I also didn't have time to figure out how it happened other than to realize that while one powerful esper was trying to kill me, another was trying to help me.  My only problem (riiight) was to put faces and names to these people.

I swung my legs off of the table, trying to not snag any tubing or cables as I did it.  It was only then that I realized that I was totally naked.  I made no attempt to cover myself.  They had already seen everything there was to see, except for maybe my tonsils.  Uhhhh...  I could also use a bit of clothing.  It's kind of chilly in here.   I feel naked without my weapon harness, but this was taking it to a whole different level of discomfort.

And, has anyone seen my backpack?...

They peel you free, and start protesting that they need tests, and you grab a nurse's gown off the wall, and don it.  Its made of paper, but better than nothing.

Out the door, and you see your clothes.  Blood-spattered on your shirt as if you'd been vomitting blood, but the jeans are mostly serviceable.  You slip them on.

In your backpack is another shirt, which you put on underneath the paper gown.  Weapons and shoes next.

You catch a glance of yourself in a mirror, and at first you don't recognize yourself.  A few bruises on the face, but blood carpetting your lower jaw, and arcing up to surround your left eye.  Your hair is all askew.

But the eyes look like burnt holes into some Abyss, and the face is dead fish pale.  You look like trouble and madness.  Inside you feel mostly normal, but outside...

One of the doctors comes into the room to tell you to come back, and a glance at him, and he backs off.

PT

That went well.  I took the time to check my weaponry to make sure that it wasn't damaged and to reconfigure my gear back to a full harness setup.  I also made sure that I had my new ID documentation, my lone debit card, and the rest of my money.

Now that I was dressed in servicable clothing with my full weapon harness on once again, I took a drink from my canteen and spent a few moments in thought.  I decided that I needed more information.  I decided to try this ward's nursing station.  At the very least, they would have the papers I needed to sign to be able to leave.  If things worked out better, they would answer a few questions, have a phone book and phone with an outside line, and a newspaper with the story of the attack on Lily.  I also wanted to drop in on my two favorite corporate security types to see how they were doing.  Maybe they were at this facility.

Once the Doctor left, I took the time to try to clean up the blood caked on my face.  My own eyes in the mirror scared me.  They looked so...  dead.

You wash up, and it makes you feel better, but still inside you there's a barely leashed fury at the way things have gone.  An innocent young girl, almost murdered, and two other innocents, and you too almost dragged in, and thats not even counting the pilots.

Your hands are shaking by the time you put the paper cloth down.

A few steps down the hall, and you arrive at the nurse's station.  They have an outside line, and a phone book, actually several since Buenos Aires is too large to use just one book, unless you're hankering to lift fifteen pounds of pulp paper as exercise.

Melina and Robert were treated here, but both had less severe injuries, plus neither had a "cardiovascular event" after they arrived.  They've both been released.

"In fact, I think..."

The nurse runs off, and comes back five minutes later.  Melina is wearing a goofy on her ball cap to cover her head bandage,and Robert is swinging along on his crutches with his right leg in a cast.  They both give you relieved grins with Melina rushing up to hug you.

"Lily is here, in ICU, but they won't let us in to see her."  Melina says.

There is no newspaper.

PT
OOC: And I waited to think deeper?  Ho, ho, ho.  I make these up with the aid of fortune cookies.  :)

I hug Melina back a moment then released her.  I'm glad you two made it.  Melina, be sure to investigate the radio station and the other things from your end.  I will do the same from mine.  I don't know about you, but I take it real personal when someone works so hard to try to kill me.  And Robert, sorry about that 'going to kill you myself thing".  I was a little stressed out at the moment.  Speaking of stressed...  Which way is ICU?  I'm going to see Lily.

Robert laughs.

"Oh, I know you didn't mean it."  You look at him, a bit incredulous at his naivete.

Melina leads you to the ICU, and says she can't get in, but then that seems understandable since she's not even remotely family.
 A nurse steps in front of the both of you, and bars the double doors that lead into the B wing of the ICU.

"This is cordoned off for a special patient.  You can't enter."

PT

I don't need this.  I really don't need this.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that the nurse is just doing her job, but I don't care at this point.  My voice growled as I spoke.  My name is Misty Reynolds.  I am a close friend of Lily's.  I am also a trained bodyguard.  I'm having a very long and ree-lee bad day.  Unless you want me to share a small part that with you, you will get your overly starched butt out of my way and let me do what I do best.  Check with whoever you have to, but do it after you move.

She glares at you, and you match her glare for glare, and then she marches aside, and jerks up the phone.  You stalk in, and see El Presidente sitting next to his granddaughter who appears to be sleeping in a hospital bed.  But the tubes and monitors belie the peaceful image, and El Presidente looks sadly shrunken, like the air has been let out of him.

He looks up, and nods politely at you, with the kind of expression that lets you know every move is like walking on grating glass.

To your left, a sitting room is available, and eight adults sit there.  You recognize Roman, Marinna (who looks filled with tears,a nd overflowing), but thats all.  There's one that has significant burn damage on his face...that must be Victor.  You've heard about him before...pyrokinetic accident.

There's one young man, perhaps eighteen, who seems vaguely familiar, although you're pretty sure you've never seen him before.

There's a feeling, a buzzing in the air, like the ether is filled with cross-talk.  You realize everyone of these people would probably be able to do something you would have previously considered insane.  You're in a room full of high level espers.

And then like a voice out of the dark you hear in your head...

*The angel survived.*

PT

Whoever this is in my head, I'll worry about him later.  I reach back and pull the  trauma kit from my weapon belt.  I open it and show it to El Presidente.  These are advanced medical devices from a world far beyond this one.  This one stops bleeding.  This one eases pain.  These others are also used for healing.  With your permission, Sir, and Lilith's guidance, I'll do what I can to help Lily.

Suddenly you feel a jolt, like you've been smashed into by a semi rig, but the sensation is in every cell of your body.  And you're standing in an ICU room, but the person in the bed is not Lily.

Its an old woman.

She says something in Spanish.

And then her face changes.

"Misty. I'm impressed. You survived when the others said the plane would kill you, and you survived the personal attentions of Him in the surgery.  Now, you're about to undo all our careful work.  Do you know how hard it was to get things in line.  It was like every problem that could go wrong did.

 But you really need to walk away. Now. Game over. You're in the Real World, what in that book of lies called the Book of Lilith is termed the Land of Pain. I threw you here.  Its one of my talents, along with a few other tricks.  Unlike the others, I don't hate you, but understand this. For the sake of the world, Lily has to die. And if I have to, I'll kill you. I'll send you some money so you don't want, how about a couple million dollars. Cheap compared to the costof a planet."

The voice is somehow not fully mature, despite coming from cracked lips.  And male.  You recognize the presence as similar to the cheerful voice that burgled your room, and jumped off a balcony and vanished.

In your hand is the one use nano-injector blinking green, ready to go.

PT

I click the nano injector back to storage mode and replace it in my kit, then put the kit on my belt.  Assume that you have my interest.  I'd like some facts.  If this is the 'Real World', what is the other place?  Why exactly does Lily have to die?  Why have you been trying to kill me?  Feel free to explain anything else which you think of, too.  I'm hoping that a room full of high level psi talent could figure out what happened to me and do something about it.  If I can just buy some time...

The old lady shrugs in response to your first question.

"I don't know. Its something the others say."

The old lady sighs.

"We call Lily the 'Second'.  She's not as powerful as Roman with his telekinetics, or Marinna with her healing, or Alfredo with his astral projecting, or Victor with  his mental illusions.  Or me with my world-jumping.  Or even father with his empathy and intelligence.  But she is the second most powerful in all of those.  And most of us can do between two and four things.  I can tk, fly, world-jump, and possess people.  My name's Hector."

He or she shifts in the bed.

"When I was fifteen, I got cut from the soccer team.  Just me and the coach in the high school.  I lost control, and pulled the building down.  Lily is eleven.  She's not even hit her puberty power jump  yet, and she already is arguably stronger than any of us, and although she doesn't like to metnion it, she can do things none of us can do.  You think its an accident that there's a hurricane coming into the coast right now.  When Lily cries, it rains.  She's too powerful.  And she's only going to get worse.  So in order to save the world, my sister, and if necessary, you, have to die. So, please walk away."

PT

I found his words to be compelling, but there were still things I needed to know.  Are you responsible for the bomb at the palace which would have killed a great many people if it hadn't been found?  Are you responsible for killing the two pilots in the private plane?  Hector, do you think that what you have been doing is justified?  How do you know that you have to kill her?

"No to the bomb.  And the pilots were the others.  My powers couldn't do that.  I suppose I could possess you and have you jump out a window, if need be.  All of us have had major problems when we transitioned to adult power levels, but none of us could cause hurricanes not on purpose, although Ramos and Cynthia, the pyrokinetic twins, may have triggered a volcano.  She is in my opinion, already more powerful than any of us.  Maybe any two of us.  So yes, its justified.  Now I have to tell you the others are getting impatient.  You need to end this, or else you're about to meet one of the nastier people in the Land of Pain.  You see, there's dopplegangers for all of us, but Lily in that world, and most of them aren't nice people.  We've contacted one, and offered her money to deal with you permanently if need be."

PT

This wasn't going well at all.  Just maybe...  I had an idea.  OK, say that I agree that Lily needs to die to preserve your status quo, would you like me to finish her off for you?  I could attempt to heal her, but she could be just too far gone for even my stuff to be able to help her.  Of course, I'd like a little something in good faith up front, say half a million dollars in gems, before I work on poor Lily, with the other three quarters of the fee in cash deposited afterwards in an account which I will specify.  And if you don't like what I do, you can still kill me later and get your gems back.  Of course, getting out of Pain Place is also part of the deal.  What do you say?

He pauses, and you can tell he's shocked and not impressed.  You can tell he's not a hardened killer even though he's talked himself into it, and he had thought better of you than that you would go along with it.

"I'll get back to you."

A minute later, and the old woman speaks again.

"All right. Deal's on.  Fifteen minutes from now, you'll be at a park outside the hospital, sitting at a picnic table. You'll get your transport and your gems.  I've been told to tell you that if you double-cross us that we have ways of making your death so painful that even a fallen angel would cringe at it.  He said it can take a very long time."

He waits a bit, and the contact ends.

PT

As I sat there waiting, the names of people from my timeline ran through my head.  Genghis Khan...  Gregory Rasputin...   Adolph Hitler...   Jim Jones...  Joseph Stalin...  None of these people had the abilities which Lily has.  I reminded myself of a quote by a British guy named Lord Acton, "Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely."  Maybe I was doing the right thing after all.

You wander out to the picnic table, and wait. A couple of armed soldiers, looking more like punks than soldiers keep staring at you, working up the courage to come over and hit on you.  And then you feel a gentle pressure, and suddenly things are different.  The guards are in the same place, but they are quietly eating their meal, and they are not armed with more than a pistol instead of AK-47's, and they look more muscled, and more mature at the same time.

A man walks up to you.

He hands you a bag.  In it, you can see diamonds, saphires, and rubies.  Its a large quantity.

Then he walks away.  Or he doesn't. You blink. He's still standing in front of you.

"Angel, you cross me, and I'll make you wish you had been beaten slowly to death.  I know all about the dark fears inside a person's mind. And I know how to bring them out.  At the same time, you do your job, and I assure you  you will recieve your reward as promised."

Its teh presence that you associated with the book.  And there's a venomous intensity, a barely restrained fury, in the voice.

"Most people have some vestige of psi talent, very modest.  I caused that pilot to think himself on fire, and cook his own guts.  Which considering his greatest fear was fire is ..." He smiles. " I do hope we understand each other now."

PT

PT

Let me think...  Untold wealth or slow death...  Gee, what a difficult decision.  Is there some type of required book that guys like you have to read from to get this crappy dialog?  I put the gems securely in my backpack, then replaced my backpack on my back.  Go away and let me do my job...  A job that even with all of your group's combined abilities, you still managed to screw up.  Can you manage to make yourself useful and blip me back to the hospital?

"I almost hope you do doublecross me." And then he's not there.

"Guess no taxi ride." You mutter.  "Untold cosmic power, but no frequent flyer miles. What a ripoff."

You hike across the park even as winds from the coming hurricane shove the first line of clouds across the darkeninng sky, and enter the hospital.  Going up, you leave the elevator, and enter the B-wing ICU again.

"Did the water help? The drink I mean that you left for?"  El Presidente asks. To your left, you're aware of vibrant intensity, several people are studying you with raptor gaze.  Lily still lays there quietly.

PT

A drink of water?  Whatever...  Yes, Sir, I am ready to procede with your permission.  As I said, I have certain advanced medical items that can be found nowhere else on this planet.  I believe that they can help Lily, but she might be too injured for even my devices to work on her.  I will not use them if you have any doubts about them, or me.  I set up two injectors, the one-use nanobot injector and the dual function spray/injector for applying/inserting a localized blood clotting factor.  I set the coagulant applicator to the maximum injector setting and wait for El Presidente's permission to begin.

He gives it, but then Marina walks over, and asks you what you are about to do. And looking into her tear-stained eyes, you realize she is part of the conspiracy as well.  She feels guilty about it, which is why the surfeit of emotion, but she's not letting her guilt stop her.

PT

I look at Marina, straight into her eyes.  I am going to do my job.  I am going to do my duty.  I'm going to inject her with a small amount of coagulant to help stop her internal bleeding.  I show Marina the injector which has been set to maximum and nod slightly.  There's nothing you can do to help.  Please go and sit down.

She gives you a searching glance, and you think she's trying to read your mind, but El Presidente remonstrates with her for her suspicions.  She nods, and bends over, and gives Lily a kiss, like a final parting, and then walks unsteadily back to her seat.

PT

I pick up the first injector and carefully place it against her chest, then activate it, sending untold thousands of medical nanobots coursing through Lily's still form.  I next snatch up the second injector and placing it over my heart, trigger the coagulent injector.

Crap!  That hurts!  I can feel a lump of something solid forming inside of my chest.  I look at the President.  Teach her compassion and sacrifice.  Part of your family wants her dead.  I try to take another breath to tell him who they are, but my chest doesn't seem to want to move.

I'm really tired now.  I think I'll sit down, or maybe fall.  Maybe I'll just...

And Victor races up to pummel you in the face, his own face beet-red with fury, screaming at you, but you don't feel the blows, indeed they don't land.  Instead you see him float up into the air as you fall backwards, as Roman imprisons him so that he can't do any harm...

And things fade.

*Thank you my angel* You hear Lilith say, and then it all swirls away into mad dreams...

===========================================================================

OOC: Wow, I'm surprised.  Kewl.

PT