The intrepid trio, missing only a small barking dog, head off to find Benjamin Weintraub, PhD, aka Ben White, Federal Big Egg.

The Fair is full of people, and the French Cafe, his base of operations, is busy, but they are quickly ushered into the shady back corner by the large potted palms, where a dark grey-suited man is slinking away from the table where Ben Weintraub is enjoying what looks to be a cheese omelette.  He smiles delightedly and rises from the table, again hiding the left hand, to properly greet Marianne.  "Good afternoon," he said, smiling, and pointed down to the elaborate tiles.

Hans Gruber stifled a curse and started following the pattern he was standing on, a spiral, getting progressively redder in the face, but White seemed utterly charmed by this obsessive-compulsive act.  "Ah, I thought so.  Please sit down; order whatever you might like.  What shall we talk about ?"

Marianne stared down at the tiles, and then back to Hans Gruber, and then fixed a smile on Benjamin White as she took a seat. "Thank you, Mr. White. We have much to discuss indeed, but before we begin, perhaps you would be kind enough to assist Mr. Gruber? He seems to be in some distress."

She glanced at Brother Clary to see if he had anything to add, but waited to see if White would release Gruber from whatever influence he was under - some spell that he had put on the German, she was sure - before she continued.

"He's obliged to follow the pattern," Ben White said, smiling, as Gruber came to the end of the spiral and then quickly stepped off onto a blank tile, scowling daggers at the pale man.   "All the Fae have weaknesses.  Do sit down, Hans.  I believe you require a large meal, as your metabolic rate is about three times the normal rate for a man your size.  Order heartily, my treat."  A waiter appeared and took their orders; Gruber ordered half the menu - in perfect French.

"So - for you to have come to see me, there must be something serious to talk about."  Ben White let the comment hang in the air, waiting for them to fill it.

Marianne ordered tea. "Surely you aren't surprised to see us, Mr. White, seeing as you were the one who sent me off on Hans Gruber's trail..." she asked with a smile. "I really am curious, Mr. White... Why rope me into it?"

"I hardly 'rope' anyone into anything," Ben White said, with a smile that would probably charm a lady who didn't have her guard up.  "Hans is a gentleman; he's bound to help you.  And after all, he owes me one.  But let us get to business, then, since we have little time and much to accomplish.  His target is the remaining Star Gem.  He already has one of them, and the scroll that was in the Sceptre, am I right ?"  Sullenly, the German nodded.

Marianne nodded as well. "Yes, the remaining star gem is in danger of falling into the wrong hands, as I think you already know. The Fox, the Englishman, Grey and a few others, too, I'll bet, are after it. And they are powerful. Someone apparently summoned a djinn. And Grey cast some sort of magical darkness while his mannequins closed in. It was a harrowing few minutes."

She paused. "Thank you for lending me the vial, Mr. White," she said gratefully. "It likely saved our lives."

"But to get back to matters at hand, you know the gem can't remain here. You were talking yourself of taking it to the fountain or the moon. As long as it's accessible, people of the worst sort won't stop trying to take it for their own."

Brother Clary watched the exchange silently, almost impassively.

But now, he spoke up.

"Brother," he drawled, "I agree with Miss Marianne.  This thing needs t' git gone afore someone else gits hurt."

White smiled gently.  "You're quite welcome, Miss Trevors.  And yes, I had news that Soloman Grey was after the Morning Star.  He wants the gem for his own reasons, none of which would be good for anyone but him - and he has incredible powers of the mind.   The darkness you experienced was an example of his psychic power, as is his mannequin army - they're clothes, filled with mentally produced ectoplasm and sent to do his will.  But - "  there was a pause as the food was delivered, and Hans immediately set to with a will, "One thing concerns me.  I don't know who summoned the Afrit.  I only know who the Djinn is - that would be Ali, who is tied to Ayada's ruby ring.  Afrits are much more powerful than he is.  So it remains that we're going to have competition in getting the gem.  If Hans agrees to take it to where it came from - and keep it safe for all time - I will agree to that.  The Fountain sees too much traffic, really, and I'm not sure I want Gula to have access to it.   There's already a government project to visit the moon, too."  He sipped his coffee.   "I have two agents with special skills, and a number with the normal skills.  The two I speak of; one has perfect direction, similar to Hans' gift, and also has some second-sight abilities.  The other is practically indestructible.  I want you to know what you have to work with.  As for myself, I cannot enter the ballroom, but I will be right outside.  If Grey saw me, there would be a terrible - altercation.  Many lives would be lost.  So I must remove myself from the equation, one step."  This didn't seem to please White, but he quickly smoothed his wrinkled brow.

"A mission to go to the moon?" It immediately caught Marianne's interest. A sharp look enetered her eyes. It appeared she had found the subject of her next book. First she had to clear this up, though. And as usual, she was blithely optimistic.

"Thank you, Mr. White! The world will be much safer if Hans can remove the gems entirely from the earth. Hans can't directly approach Grey either, so Brother Clary and I will go to the ball and station ourselves near the gem. You say you have an agent who can see things as they are? He can perhaps attend the ball tomorrow and let us know what guards there are around the gem. The other agents would be very helpful too. We'll arrange a distraction, swipe the gem and get out of there."

"Mr. Peterson," White said, to the thin air, "And Mr. Gattanack.  Right now."  And he smiled at Marianne.  "The ballroom will no doubt be darkened by Soloman Grey, and he will have his own people - and things - there to grab the gem.  You'll have difficulty seeing, even with the shard of bone and Brother Clary's cross.   And whomsoever raised the Afrit will be there, too.  I advise extreme caution."

A scant second later, two men came towards the table; one was thin, with sandy hair and a red face, panting.  The second was a mountain of a man; easily 6 foot 8, with the muscles of a prize bull and not even breathing hard.  Both were wearing grey pinstripe, the unofficial uniform of a federal agent.  "Mr. Peterson," White said, making proper introductions, " May I introduce Miss Trevors, Brother Clary, and you know Lt. Gruber, of course.  Likewise, Mr. Gattanack.  Mr. Peterson has special skills of sight and direction, and Mr. Gattanack is nigh invulnerable.  Gentlemen, I expect you to assist these three individuals in their goals tonight."

"A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen. Thank you for your assistance. I'll catch you up on the way to the ball, but expect fireworks tonight."

She asked Gruber, "If we get you the gem, how long will you need to get it to safety?"

Peterson was staring at Gruber, with a faint scowl; Gattanack was devouring one of the pastries from the table.  Gruber scowled back at Peterson and replied to Marianne.  "I can run very fast," he said. "If it is close to a ley line, I can travel that all the way back to my Junker."

"Alright, we might all need to stick around then to provide interference if necessary... Shall we, gentlemen?"

Weintraub/White smiled, a pleasantly sunny smile.  "Of course you can travel the ley lines.  Why didn't I think of that before, and this city being a major nexus point.  Well, well, well.  Do not let me detain you."

With those words, the two agents immediately looked ready to depart, at speed, though Peterson was still catching his breath.  "Sir," both of them murmured, almost in unison, the only farewell that White seemed to expect.  Hans Gruber got up and immediately stepped behind Brother Clary, so that Peterson's view of him was mostly blocked, to Peterson's moue of annoyance.

"So, Miss," Peterson said, still somewhat breathlessly, "What are your orders ?"  The man-mountain striding along slowly beside him suppressed a laugh, turning it into a bull-like rumble.

As Peterson busies himself getting instructions from Marianne, Brother Clary leans over to Gruber.

"Brother," he drawls in a low voice, "I've done a lot of things that may not have always followed the letter of the law, but at least I know I've followed the spirit.  But I'm not sure I'm up fer common thievin'.  You sure there's not another way?"

"I don't have your sense of morality, Brother Clary," Gruber replied, frankly. "If a thief steals it, I may reclaim it.  That is my purpose."
"You are getting a lot out of him," Weintraub commented, causing the party to pause in their escape.  The pale man's eyes were sharply alert, though the smile was still in place. "My congratulations on his capture.  Ask him what the gems are, if you would be so kind."

Gruber shot the man a glare that could almost cook eggs.

Marianne did as White suggested, curiously, and asked Gruber about the gems.

Neither did she share the preacher's black-and-white sense of ethics. As far as she was concerned, if Rashid didn't have the means to protect something that could loose destruction on the entire world, it was her right, even her duty, to divest him of it. She explained all of this to Brother Clary.

Gruber's reluctance was obvious.  Even his shoulders sagged with the unhappiness of having to 'fess up.  "The gems are enchanted dragon eggs."  he said.

Marianne grinned. "So you see, Brother Clary, they weren't part of our world to begin with, so it can't be considered theft. And let me guess, they can be used to summon a dragon? In the middle of Chicago? That would be a sight, much as I'm determined to prevent it."

"Alright, let's be off. Mr. Gruber, let's you and I go together now, and the others can follow. If that dratted detective friend of yours has gone and alerted the Sultan's bodyguards, it's better if nobody knows we're all together."

"When the jewel comes on scene, there will be all sorts of people with sticky fingers waiting to take it. I only want ours to be the only ones to get close. Agents, your job is to look for our competition and do anything to stop them. Brother Clary, nobody would suspect a clergyman. I'll set up a distraction and you lift the gem, or if you're uncomfortable with that, we'll do it the other way. Mr. Gruber, you'll need to tell us what safeguards are around the gem. We'll hand it over the minute we get it and you can take off. Mr. Gattanack we'll need your help to keep the evil forces off his tail." Her eyes twinkled suddenly. "Your gremlins would be a fine distraction, if they would oblige us in this matter," she suggested to Gruber.

The black-clad Texan sighed almost as heavily as Gruber.  "I'll go, even though I don't like it," he growled.  "We cain't have no dragons flyin' around here. They're all agents o' the devil hisself."

At Marianne's suggestion, he caught his breath, then pounced on the alternate.  "I'll do the distractin'.  They won't much be lookin' fer a lady to lift it either, I reckon."

As the scarlet-haired writer continued outlining her plan, Brother Clary began making sure his shotgun was fully loaded.

"No, they really are dragon eggs," Gruber said, with another deep sigh, folding his arms.  Even though he had just devoured several plates of food, he was already eyeing up a tray of pastries that was trundling across the patio, pushed by a snooty-looking waiter.
"I had my hands on a dragon egg," White said, his eyebrows raised to his hairline and the set of his jaw suggesting a major loss.  "And now you have gremlins ?"
"I will ask them to help," Gruber said, ignoring White, who shook his head.  The two agents stood quietly, listening, the big one impassive, the thin one with an expression of puzzlement.

Brother Clary and Marianne sorted out their plan and headed out to make it happen.

(Going to Last Night at the Ball)