The Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl

...............~~Executive Power-Stripping~~............

"Have you any questions?" asked the Splitter as he powered through the bog, disregarding the buffeting the barge was taking as it knocked against trees and was tipped by peat mounds.

Naturally he did, but Adam had resigned himself to his dilemma now, so even hearing the request he stifled his initial impulse to do so. He still felt too exhausted and foolish to ask them.

"You see, Adam," said the Splitter, "you just don't see it yet. Oh, you're beginning to; but your faith in yourself is still quite fragile. These last circumstances were chosen by yourself, of course, and you knew full well at the time that you would be hard-pressed to achieve your goal. But you have always been an ambitious soul...eager to bite off more than you can comfortably chew. Let me think of an analogy you will be able to understand..."

His voice-waves glided over the murky water until they were drowned out (heh!) by the rhythmic slogging sound of his pace through the water. Adam looked at the back of the creature's head, waiting. Growing impatient, he lifted a hand to his mouth and inserted a fingernail between his teeth. He did not know the Splitter was grinning and rolling his eyes; nor that the Splitter was wondering if Adam knew how many humanoids who actually loved him so often reflexively did the same.

The Splitter allowed Adam to worry at that nail for a moment without reproof, recognizing it as a frustration-tolerance gesture. In fact, he wondered if Adam could manage to keep it up until they reached the vortex. They were drawing closer to it, and the Splitter began to countdown. Once they reached the vortex and he let go, Adam would get a taste of the real reality. Meanwhile the Splitter needed for Adam to conjure up an image of himself in a previous lifetime....long ago....the one in which his nail-biting started.

It took Adam some time, but he realized then that this new behavior -- one he had never even considered before -- had been a habit at some time. It was giving him comfort now that he desperately needed, yet simultaneously triggering other sensations that startled him not exactly by surprise, but more with a deja-vu sort of familiar and long-repressed recollection. ... he was at once intimately familiar with the constellation of discomforts, yet it was nothing he could place in his memory of his lifetime. Where had it come from?

He felt a strange choking sensation round his throat, like a stiff piece of cardboard tied close with a silken sash of some kind; a discomfort round his midsection as though a a belt was pulled tighter than comfort allowed. There was a pressure where his hips flexed as though starched fabric were pressing into the crease of his lap, and a chill air swirled round his ankles as though suddenly exposed from beneath a layer of warmth.

He felt bindings round his upper calves and pressure running vertically, as if something were pulling at tubes of some kind in which his feet were sweating...and a kind of armor pinching around his feet which pressed irritatingly against his Achilles heel where there was a pain and burning like a blister; compressed bunions and corns at the base of his toes; and pinched his toes together awkwardly.

In front of his inner eye flashed a vision of a large white room, rectangular, with a shining black table of obsidian running down its center. At chairs all the way up and down the table were seated men -- dozens of them -- who were dressed in identical uniforms...each with a sparkling crystal glass of clear liquid in front of him and a tablet. Someone was bellowing in the room about profit margins and investors and bonuses and fire and protestors and riff-raff whiners. Those seated each in turn looked up from their laps and at Adam, who was sitting at the head of the table, and he realized then that the words were issuing from his own mouth...

and he saw that each of them were enduring the precise same discomfort as he was, but to a much lesser and frightening degree. For they had not nearly as much burden as did he.

With this image, he snapped back to the bog and the barge and made an O with his mouth. "No," he said, horrified. He looked at the back of the Splitter's head. The creature only glanced halfway over his shoulder and nodded curtly. And then the barge suddenly vanished beneath him, and Adam was plummeting, free falling, all alone, and terrified.

.............~*~The Naica Cave~*~..............

When Adam came to grips with what had happened, and saw he was jettisoned back into space he realized he was completely powerless. Again. He floated for a while, gazing down at planet Earth, and wondered if he would ever again see his love, or his friends.

He wondered if they would even miss him. And he doubted it. Suddenly he felt a suction, a wind tunnel, pulling him to warp speed...
....and beyond...

which took his breath away (well, also the fact that there was no oxygen took it away). But oddly, he felt aware, alert, and then the scene spun round...
(Adam was sure it was he that had spun...or been spun??) and then it stabilized and flattened.......and next thing he knew, he was in tube, looking out at Earth; the distant sun; and...the Tumbler!

"Doctor, welcome back," said Ship. "Please remove those restrictive and garish garments; you know they will do nothing but slow you down. Your quarters are prepared, and you'll find appropriate work clothing there. Then you are to report to the Center."

Adam lifted himself from where he was tucked into a ball on the floor, looking out. He brushed himself off and reached to straighten his tie, an automatic response...

"Doctor, to remove it you must undo the knot, rather than fussing with it," said Ship and Adam thought he heard a note of mockery.

"Yes, Ship," said Adam, "right away." And he turned and walked into the main corridor. Something seemed 'off', but he wasn't quite sure what it was...until...
'clack..clack..clack......clack' he stopped. Carpet was gone!

Adam blew his cheeks out in a sigh of bewilderment, entered his quarters, changed into a suitable outfit for work, and stepped back out into the hallway.

"Adam," said Ship. "You'll need the hard-hat."
Adam found this odd, since he'd just traveled without benefit of a ship of any kind and had arrived unscathed, but he returned to grab the hardhat from where it waited on the shelf above the doorway and took it with him.

No one was aboard. No droids, no crew, only minimal lights glowed, and he followed the overhead signs (were those new? he wondered) that directed him to the Center.

He entered the service elevator and felt the car drop; it caused his innards to lurch. 'How odd,'he thought. 'Hurtling through space was fine, but an elevator causes me discomfort.'

The car door opened, and he was standing outside the enormous gates of the Ship's Center. He could not recall if he'd been there before, but he thought so. The doors whooshed open, and he stepped inside. What met him was entrely different to what he'd anticipated. He put on the hardhat, and began walking, carefully, along one of the crystal beams that offered the only solid surface on which to move.

As he made his way deeper into the Center, the crystals became more like walls. He began to feel warm, as though the heat from a molten core was radiating up from the abyss below him. He removed his jacket just as he got to what looked like an opening into a larger, cavernous room, and squatted to peek inside.

The interior of the cavern issued a blue glow from within, like a glacier. Trees covered in hoarfrost offered some variety from the otherwise seemingly identical crystaline structures which enveloped it. Adam had to squint to see; the brightness was indescribable.

And then, kneeling some distance away, he saw her.
"Please, Adam, come in," said Gert. "We've been waiting for you."

He started to climb down into the cavern, and behind him the Splitter nodded gravely to Gert, who smiled sweetly back at him. She saw Merlin step to the Splitter's side, and the two of them melted into the crystaline passageways just as Adam reached the blue floor of the Temple of the Wizard.

~*~ Females ~*~

‘But Margo, what’s the rush? We saw you bury Mac and you said Taggart is drugged.’ Silo’s flung her hands in the air. Incredulously Margo insisted they leave that very moment. ‘If we move Gep now we’re going to kill him!‘ Silo nearly choked on emotion hissing under her breath to Margo who paced back and forth anxiously in front of the small rough hewn table where Silo, eyes blazing, followed her every move.

‘Look girl, you’re the last one who needs to tell me how Gep is!’ Margo spun in place wanting to slap those big violet eyes right out of her head but caught herself just in time. Maybe she’d better sit down. Last thing she needed was to make this little alien and her big friends into her enemies. Margo did what her conscience told her and sat taking stock of their situation for the hundredth time in the hour since they’d all shared the cabin. Gep was sleeping, the ‘Nenos’ Carpet and Chumley were keeping guard outside the door and Pip? He lay close to his father shielding him against a the cold creeping through the chinks in the walls, the chill their pitiful little fire didn’t have a chance of deflecting. Nothing had changed and the time passing only her need to make the alien understand.

‘Silo please... From what you’ve told me about the real Neno he’ll take care of Taggart,’ The light of revenge began to die in Margo’s heart. She’d no choice but to leave Taggart’s death to the one who had a longer history with that devils son than she, ‘but Silo, Taggart’s not the only threat. There’s Mac’s daughters!’

Silo scowled her head cocked up between her palms, her elbows resting on the table. She remembered a conversation she’d had with Gep, something about Mac’s daughters, but she didn’t know how a bunch a girls could be a threat. Her look told Margo she didn’t get it.

‘Mac has six girls and if one is bad the other five are worse. And right now? Believe me when I tell you they’re not prostrate with grief as most in the compound believe. If anything they’re sucking down Champaign and partying it up to beat the band!‘ Margo snorted. ‘Between you an me? Anyone who tries to stand in the way of them taking control where Mac left off is in some big trouble. Those girls have been under Mac’s thumb so long there’s going to be hell to pay now they’re free of him.’ Margo’s shudder wasn’t due to the cold.

‘What will they do if they catch you Margo? You and Gep?’ Silo got to the core of it staring straight into the other woman’s eyes. It hadn’t been hard for Silo to figure why Margo was staying behind with Gep instead of running, she loved him. and she didn’t want details, last of all their personal history, what she needed to know why they were in such danger from these ‘girls’.

Not answering her question directly Margo kept filling in the details. ‘Silo, Mac traffics in people. Women. To be specific - fertile young women. And he’s ruthless about it. In fact? One of the first women Mac sold was the mother of his girls. I don’t know their story but I do know she despised Mac as much as he her.’ Margo rubbed her hands across her face and continued. ‘As for me? Those girls hated me on sight and have continued hating me all these years Mac‘s kept me.’ Margo scrubbed her palms across her eyes again trying to wipe out the memories.

‘But I still don’t understand why they’re such a threat. What will they do? Try to kill you? We wont let them do that. Sell you?’ Now it was Silo’s time to snort. ’We wont let them do that either.’

‘Me?’ Margo dropped her hands and raised her eyebrows refusing to be touched by the girls loyalty - loyalty Margo didn‘t believe she deserved. ’I’m not worried about me. Me they’ll just kill. It’s what they’ll do to Gep that’s got me wanting out of here.‘ Margo stood and began to pace again. ‘Silo, if you hadn’t of figured it out by now...’ Margo let her voice drop so Pip would hear and at her pause Silo spoke quickly, ‘It’s that you’re in love with him.’ Silo interjected.

Margo’s laugh was bitter. ‘Oh Silo,’ she sighed her bright red nails cutting half moon crests into her palms, ‘if it was only as simple as that. No, it‘s not because I love him. It’s because Gep is Mac’s brother.’ Margo dropped her hands and let the alien girl see the tears of fear glistening in her eyes.

And Silo remembered. Mac standing over her his hand raised ready to kill her only to order her into a room of horror. Gep standing over her wanting to run but instead pressing his lips to hers his warm palm cupping the back of her neck. And both men? Their eyes were the same. Brothers. As different as night as day and one no more beautiful than the other. How she hadn’t seen it before was beyond her.

‘Silo!’ Carpet called softly from outside the doorway, ‘You better get out here. Someone’s coming!’ Startled Silo rose to her feet her hand going at once to her knives.

The common goal to keep Gep and Pip safe had formed a strange bond between the two females. The rickety table no longer between them the two embraced quickly and together walked towards the door.

................................................~Unlikely Allies~................................................

Boy In A Dress wandered over to the boulder that Kokopelli had been resting on and sat
down hard, he had first thought that his existence here was merely a glitch... an accident
in a small laboratory and now, these two Spirits announce that BIAD has a pre-set future
here on Earth.

The Man/Girl leaned forward, put his elbows on his thighs and pondered these recent
revelations, his usual-sunny smile was gone. Kokopelli fingered his Crystal flute and
eyed the glum hermaphrodite.

"I can not -nor dare offer advice to you... "the large-framed Deity whispered "... but The
Raven Mocker speaks the truth" Kokopelli's features showed his concern for the little
Being in the short red dress.

The long black cape began to fade and Ka'lanu ahkyeli'ski... he who took the sick and the
lost from their camps had tasks to deal with, Raven Mocker nodded his goodbyes and
blinked out the desert surroundings.
"Take care Boy In A Dress" were the last words from the beaked-mask.

The sky above the arid land became a deep purple and tinged with scarlet as BIAD wondered
what to do next and the answer came from the strangest place.

"What are those marks?" BIAD asked and pointed a red-nailed finger at the sandy ground.
Kokopelli peered at the swirls and drag-marks near Boy In A Dress' high-heels and slowly
unveiled a grin, the long Serpent known as Uktena was close by.

"I suggest you wander the land for awhile and ponder on your future, there is another who
may help you" Kokopelli said softly and put the flute to his lips, the surreal surroundings
filled with sad-sounding music.

BIAD sighed as the notes fluttered in his head and without another word, he strode off into
the darkness. The large rune-daubed Kokopelli watched the naked-back of the confused
Being slip into the gloom "Go my friend..." he thought "... go find your truth"

The lights of Hobbs End flickered about a mile away from where Boy In A Dress stood, the
cool night-breeze ruffled the black permo-wig and played at the hem of his red dress.
The low-lying bushes and thin cacti looked on as BIAD wondered what to do, a small owl
accompanied the vigil.

"Then don't follow your path" Uktena offered and slid from the shadows of a ground-hugging
Creosote bush, the large serpent moved with ease across the loose sandy terrain.

BIAD showed his surprise and stepped back as the horned Uktena revealed himself "I hear
that you are the one who walks with the Neo...?" the smiling reptile-deity said and eyed the
fleeing Pygmy Owl "... I hear that you are disturbed that forces are at work to show you who
you really are"

Constellations rotated slowly in the velvet heavens as the two figures watched each other.
BIAD stood his ground and felt his nails grow longer, he reckoned his hair was preparing for
a fight also. "I thought snakes didn't have ears?" he said easily, but his nerves were tingling
as the Deity neared him.

"I am Uktena... the Spirit that can help you, but of course, it is your decision on whether you
take my advice" the massive reptile hissed and raised his head to BIAD's height.
The Man/Girl curtsied carefully and noticed that as Uktena dipped his head in a bow, a small
jewel glittered in the snake's forehead.

"How do you do, I am Boy In A Dress... I would like to listen to your wisdom" BIAD said and
showed a kind-smile, his nails retracted during the polite introductions.
"Ah... I see you noticed my third-eye... my Ulun'suti, it is what gives me great insight to
human's souls" Uktena said and slowly placed his tail at the high-heeled feet of the odd
creature he had come across.

Hobbs End beckoned to the wigged-hermaphrodite as a Saloon calls to a drunk, but BIAD
focused on his latest encounter with Native-American Gods. "And so you can reveal some
insight that will assist me?" BIAD asked and noticed how close Uktena was.

(Continued Below)

(Continued from Above)

"Oh yes, you have come to a fork in the road and now you struggle with which way to go..."
the smooth-toned serpent said "...Do you remain as a stranger-in-a-strange-land or do you
strive to become the King of The Universe?" Uktena moved slowly around Boy In A Dress'
body with a slow methodic grace.

"But Nenothtu is supposed to take that place..." BIAD said loudly "... and he's my friend"
A red-lipped pout blossomed in the evening's darkness and Uktena placed another coil
about the large-busomed humanoid with the silly haircut.

"So only you can decide, only you can say what you value most" he crooned and faced
the Boy In A Dress, his wide-mouth rivalled that of his new captive.



BIAD felt the strength of Uktena's body and wondered why is defences had not protected
him, the scaled coils were tight, but not uncomfortably-so. "I value friendship more than
anything... it avoided me for a long time" the Man/Girl whispered and waited for those
jaws to widen, the clear-diamond between the cunning eyes glittered with borrowed
light from the moon.

"Then you already know which trail to travel..." Uktena whispered back and blinked at Boy
In A Dress "...you know what is in your heart"


BIAD stood alone in the desert and shivered, whatever vision he had just been involved in
had dissipated, the huge snake had disappeared.

The desert breeze returned and danced in BAID's hair, it seemed a tremendous weight had
been lifted from his strap-covered shoulders "they name a town after you in the future" BIAD
called out into the gloom and hoped Uktena heard it.

Kokopelli's music wafted across the darkness as the grinning Man/Girl turned to look at the
winking lights of Hobbs End, he knew what he had to do now.

...................................................~Quieter Times~....................................................

Delivery Bay II ticked and knocked with the heat from the plasma pipes and the Service-
Droid known as Corky Bunion checked the temperature guage once more, it was another
boring shift on The Yydryl.

The Console that stood on it's plinth at the junction of the Deilvery area and Corridor 12
blinked it's lights to show all was in it's correct place and Corky pondered on what had
happened recently.

Ship had endured a zombie invasion, strange human's fighting in the corridors and The
Yydryl passing through dimensions at every opportunity, Corky had thought it was all a little
too gung-ho.

"There is a slight leak of confectionary from Store-Area Four" the female-voice of the
Console cooed and brought Corky back from his brooding thoughts of Ship's recent
adventures.

The Droid's footsteps echoed along the Delivery Bay's clean walkway and the lonely sound
reminded Corky of how he had missed the happenings aboard the huge craft, no zombie had
wandered into Bay II and Ship had never called on the Service-Droid for assistance.

The spillage of Chocolate cake was due to poor packaging problems and hauling the suction
pipe from the wall, Corky cleaned up the mess.
After a few minutes of laying Duct-tape across the small crack in the wooden crate, Corky
reported to Console that all was well again.
"Thank you Corky Bunion... status normal" was the response.

Two hours went by slowly as Corky walked the Bay and surveyed the piles of neatly-placed
supplies, food and water on the right and maintenance equipment on the left.
The large metal casks of Tumbler III waited near the corridor that led to The Armory Room
and Corky knew that no request from Drake the Repair-Droid had been made yet.
The seven-foot tall robot continued his checks.

The Spiltter watched the lonely tin-man move from one side of Delivery Bay II to the other
and breathed in the peaceful surroundings, he enjoyed his little respite from Adam's teachings
and after excusing himself from Gert, he now sat on a high tower of rectangular boxes and
smiled at the scene below.

The Splitter sighed and thought about The Ydryl's part in all of this, the Time-lines were
still a-little out of whack, Nenothtu and his friends were struggling on the war-blasted
Earth below and Death's plans to bring about his brother's usurping of the Neo's future
throne.

The Grey-Being with the twinkling eyes frowned at the current situation.
"Ship...?" The Splitter called quietly "...do you recall how we have talked about recent
events below?" The Droid in the Bay heard nothing and continued his tasks.
"Affirmative Splitter, I enjoy discussing Time-travel and it's complications with you" Ship
answered and the small creature that maintained the Timelines smiled at the quirky
response.

"The power that was harnessed at the Tall Tower caused so many faults on the way that
time unrolls, these latest occurences find me a running to keep up!" The Splitter said and
gazed into the high shadows across Delivery Bay II.
"But I know it's these quiet times, these moments I spend with you that are valuable...
and I thank you for allowing me that"

Corky tapped the temperature guage and clanked towards where the damaged crate
waited in the far-shadows 'check and check again' was the Droid's credo.
The crumbs from the Chocolate cake had reappeared and the Service-Droid sighed to
himself at the small mess.

"May I ask about the Theobroma cacao seed confection?" The Yydryl asked and above Corky,
Ship fired a sensor at the small-brown lumps for more information.
dried roasted cocoa beans, sugar, cocoa butter, theobromine, alkaloids -theobromine and
phenethylamine.

Splitter continued his grin and whispered "you're looking at it all wrong" and waited for
the question, but Ship remained stoic.
"Chocolate cake makes the universe go around... it's the oil on the wheels, the fuel that drives
the engine and it's the food of the Gods" Splitter stated and his large eyes scanned the metal
-Being placing the suction-hose back into it's wall-setting.

The Yydryl waited a few moments before she asked "does it taste nice?" and the smile of the
Time-Mechanic widened. "Oh yes Ship and one day, we will taste some together" he assured
his faceless friend.

The small grey-creature with the jet-black hair and galaxy-filled eyes faded from his place at
the top of the supply crates and Ship went back to her duties, the scene below was all at that
was left.

Just another boring shift in Delivery Bay II.

~*~ *Click* ~*~

Reluctantly the Yydryl continued monitoring the backbiting rising from the com center from the planet below. Wishing mightily she could return to her peaceful and enlightening conversations with the Splitter and Corky the Yydryl persevered. The Tumblers had been at each others throats since reaching rendezvous on Earth and were still at it. If their fight escalated the Tumbler’s would go physical and when a particularly graphic bit of slander spit from Tumbler II crowning Tumbler I a turn of phrase Ship could have gone a long time without hearing, if ever, Ship wondered if it was time to step in. But Carpet, she knew, would have immediately advised her not to.

They were Bio-machines, he‘d say. And like her they experienced emotions, stronger sometimes (at least she believed) than those who were Bio-Pures. There was something about mixing the mechanical and physical that heightened every sense. But the point was, Carpet would have reminded her she was not there to ‘play God’ but to exercise her authority only when a mission became compromised. So far? Sparks were flying but the Tumblers were in position, remaining cloaked, and waiting for the rescue party.

Ship gave a great sigh the whole of her trembling setting off a number of catastrophes in her Center. Avalanches at her highest peaks, waves 8 meters high rearing to crash against her lower shores while the little animals, and the big that somehow had come to inhabit the Center ran for cover they too trembling and paying the price for Ship’s melancholy.

Sensing the trouble Ship pulled in on herself and examined her own discord. It was time she faced it. It wasn’t just the Tumbler’s. Ship missed Carpet. The Milli-being had been with her since just after her ’birth’ at her first docking. He’d been a mistake really - one of LAB’S less than graceful Technicians had spilt active spores meant for her food reproduction onto the floors of her main corridor. Ship, so rich in virgin bio materials - her halls warm and humid - had made the perfect nursery for the Milli-Being.

The Yydryl hadn’t know about Carpet’s existence until just before her maiden flight. Carpet had kept a low profile while growing and later his instincts for preservation kept him lying low - to expose himself before the Yydryl was away from LAB might bring about his eradication. But from the first day Ship knew Carpet? The host became the slave and visa versa. They’d depended and relied on one another ever since. But now? Times had changed. Carpet had left Ship‘s halls forever. And no matter how many times he’d reassured her he’d made his choice for himself? Ship knew in her heart of hearts Silo was at the end of that decision, if not the beginning.

With less reluctance Ship began to hate the little alien where once she’d loved her. Sighing again, this time upsetting even the Light Being’s hidden deep in the forests of her Center Ship abruptly ended communications with the Tumblers and the planet below. They’d either make it out. Or they wouldn’t. It was up to them now.

Still tired from her long convalescence Ship settled in on herself and slept.

~*~ Tumblers And Droids ~*~

‘Why you yellow-bellied over-tonnage piece a...! The rest of Tumbler I’s insult was lost on Skinny and Squibbs. After hours of their relentless bickering the Droid's finally shut down the audio trying to gain a little piece inside the bio-vehicle.

‘I told you we shouldn’t have left T1!’ Squibbs accused again. The bickering between the droids had grown nearly as bad as that of the Tumblers the intensity of their different opinions growing more heated by the moment.

‘Squibbs old thing, you’ve really got a propensity for repetition don’t you. That’s 33 times you’ve spouted that tripe since we climbed aboard.’ Skinny was having none of it. He was tired and just wanted to go home, to Ship. Down-time, the waiting, was not something he’d been programmed for. He itched for action or to get back to Ship where at least he could perform some service.

‘But all the fighting started because you decided we had to come over here instead of staying on the T1!’ Squibb’s little red light atop his dome flashed provokingly.

‘If the ‘T1’, as you call him can’t understand we were curious about the ‘T2’, then he needs an overhaul in his ego department.’ Skinny waved off his companion and went back to the control board. Checking and rechecking the monitors between carrier and Ship had become Skinny’s obsession. He saw the change, registered it, but couldn’t believe his sensors.

‘Look who’s talking about needing an ego overhaul!’ Squibbs started but ceased provoking his friend when he saw and felt the subtle difference settle over the carrier vessel.

‘What is it?’ His red light glowed deeply and stopped rotating Squibbs concentrating on the communications board now as was Skinny.

‘She’s shut us off mate.’ Skinny’s gleaming metal arms raised, took his shinny head in his mechanical hands and moaned.

‘Whoot?’ Squibbs couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

‘Ship! She’s shut us off. Shut us down. Changed the channel! Tuned us out!‘ He wailed. ‘We’ve no way to contact her until she opens up communication again!’

The Tumblers had also gone silent T2 registering the cease of communication only moments after T1.

All four bio-machines processed the ramifications of Ship’s actions, and like most sentient beings immediately refused to claim their own responsibility in the crisis. When that happened? All hell really broke loose.

..................~*~Tangled Webs Tightly Woven~*~....................

"How do you know my name?" Adam asked the lovely creature kneeling in the snow. "Aren't your knees cold?"

Gert smiled. "The snow is not cold. Do you not feel the heat from beneath you?"

Adam paused for a moment and realized the intense warmth in his feet....as though they were... held to a....
"Feet to the fire," he muttered. Gert smiled.

"Now, Adam, what did we learn?"

He looked at her, momentarily puzzled. "You're the...the old bat who nearly dumped me in the bog?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I've told you, many of us watch. Adam, you have undergone many lessons in your time. Yes, Jack the Ripper. Achilles the slaughterer. Numerous excursions into the world of excessive wealth and greed...and while in those circumstances you were not directly responsible for the deaths of anyone, it does not change the absolute accountability you had for the perishing of children in sweat shops, workers in factories who suicided, youngsters tortured outside diamond mines...all of it, the blood from those deaths are on your hands as well."

"Yes, I know," said Adam petulantly. "But I've told you, I was forc---"

Gert suddenly sprang to her feet. "NO!" she bellowed. "You were not forced." She turned her back to him and crossed her arms, then uncrossed them, ran her hands through her long black hair, took a step, then turned back and strode up to Adam. Her face was a mere three centimeters from his.

"Adam, you have not always been a tyrant, a merciless killer. You have also been noble and just, revered and lauded. And in that lifetime, when you were the greatest sovereign to ever rule the mundane environs of Avalon, you were betrayed. By your best friend, your trusted companion, and your wife. The anger that you suppressed during that lifetime was what led you to the subsequent dastardly acquiescences to the Grim Reaper."

He felt a welling of resistance in his chest, but Adam knew he must now pay the fiddler for the many dances he had done. He looked into Gert's ancient, immortal eyes...and saw Dag and Brittle. He saw Sslar as well, and the small campfire that was keeping the frigid night at bay.

*********************************************

"I'm not sure how to respond to that," said Dag. "He perplexes me....he seems at once confident, and yet prone to accidents. Impulsive in a courageous way, but reckless as well. I most certainly was infatuated with him for some time, and saw him as an invincible hero, but now I must admit that I am disappointed that he has not come for me."

"Rather like how Arthur did not man-up for Guinevere," Brittle muttered.

The two sat shoulder to shoulder, and Dag lowered her face. "Yes," she said in a half sigh, "like that. " She thought back to when she had escorted Arthur's remains back into the mists after his mortal death. "You know, I could have left him there. As much as the two of you broke my heart; first you, when you had shown me so much fondness, and then she showed up and I was tossed aside. And Arthur....he had no way of knowing we were siblings, when I was made priestess and he was the ....." She broke off.

"The what," Brittle encouraged.

Dag shook her head. "Never mind," she said. "Mordred should never have been taken to his court....my vain aunt is to thank for that."

Brittle reached for a twig and tossed it onto the fire. "Ah, of course. It was all my fault, and Arthur's, and Margause's. Yes."

"I wish I did not have to recall it," she said. "The evil that was born of our sacrificial lust should not have been allowed his first breath."

"And who allowed it?"

Dag sighed deeply. "I did. I should not have carried it to term. I should not have adopted him out of Avalon. I should not have stayed away as long as I did."

Sslar rose from where she'd been curled up, face to the flames, and yawned as she perked her ears up toward the west.

Dag reached to stroke her big head. "Someone's coming," she said. "And these thoughts trouble me. I regret now having accessed the files. I preferred not knowing."

Brittle rose and brushed off his clothes. "We've all made choices, Gia. I should not have abducted you from the lakeside."

"You are correct," she said. "And for all his faults....I want to see Arth------ he was Arthur!" She gasped. "Well, this should be an interesting little scenario, eh? The two of you face to face? At least thank the Goddess I was not Guinevere."

They both turned to the sound of hooves approaching, and Sslar trotted out of the firelight into the shadows. Dag stood then.

"No, you were not," said Brittle, "but will he know that? All he'll know is I stole his woman once, and now it will look as though I stole his woman again. Perhaps it is better if I go on my own."

Dag shrugged. She no longer cared what Brittle did. "Up to you," she said, "I'm going with Sslar."

Brittle nodded and said, "Godspeed, then, Gia."

Her mare whinnied then, and Dag heard the answering call of the approaching horse as she watched Brittle face into the shadows toward the East. She thought to call him back and offer him the provisions, the map and compass. But she did not, and instead shrugged her shoulders. "Okay then," she said to Brittle's back, and turned back toward the West.

Ben had arrived. He slid down from the saddle and she went to him, glad of the friendly face and embrace.

"Where's your pal, then, li'l lady?" he asked as he gently unwound her lovely arms from his midsection. Wasn't fitting for him to allow the amplification of the very U-Man response she elicited.

Dag waved toward the path that Brittle had taken. "On his way to his destiny, I guess," she said. "Not my problem."

"Oh, but it is, darlin', it very much is," said Ben. "C'mon, grab your gear and shinny on up there. We'll hang back if you want, but we gotta track the boy...he don't git ta whar he's a-goin', we're all in a heap o' horse hockey."

******************

Back in the Naica Cave on Yydryl, Adam watched this scene unfold in Gert's eyes.

"Those are my children," she said to Adam. "You were fathered by Uther Pendragon when I was known as the Queen Igraine. She was fathered by Gorlois." She was glad he could not read the deception in her eyes. It was imperative for him to believe she had borne Lancelot, just like the other two believed.

"She's...my sister?"

"And he is your brother."

Adam drew his hand across his face. "I'm confused," he said.

"Never mind that," said Gert. "You must see to it that he makes amends, which means he must make it to Fairy Stone Mountain. You will escort him from there, to Avalon. And then there will be a comeuppance the likes of which the Earth has not seen in some time. Now go, back to the gates and through them."

"And then what?" asked Adam.

Gert smile wryly. "You'll have to figure that out for yourself."

********************************

After Adam had taken his leave, Merlin and the Splitter rejoined Gert. Merlin smiled. "Well done, my dear. Very well done indeed."

"You think he bought it?" asked Gert

"Apparently. Now as long as he doesn't disc--- well, as long as all of them stay deceived and believe Lancelot was your son, we shall have quite a show for the others."

"The ultimate payback for Viviane," said Gert.

"My dear, you forget the real end we seek. The playing out of this entire ruse is to get the sword back where it belongs, and Avalon free of the mists. Viviane is dead. It is her son Lancelot who must be put in his place. If only our hero here can do that, all will be well."

The Splitter stood next to the ancient wizard and smiled. "Sorry for the mixup back there at Tall Tower," he said.

Merlin looked at him sternly. "A little late for 'sorry', isn't it?"

The Splitter was unfazed. "So write me up," he shrugged. "But you can't fire me, and you know it." He turned and left Merlin and Gert standing in the cavern.

"Oh, I'll write you up, old boy, I'll write you up," said Merlin. "All in good time."

Gert giggled. "Come now, we are late for our appointment with that shrew Pandora."

...........................................~Tumbler III... and Co~.......................................

Drake placed the silver-coloured tool box onto his trolley and wondered why this
Service-Droid-upstart had a problem with his request. The Yydryl had entered the
stratosphere and after a ordering the Repair-Droid known as Drake to assemble the
Tumbler III, Ship notified the Delivery Bay for the parts to be sent on to the Armory
ten minutes ago.

"And you believe there will be a delay due to hygiene and safety reasons?" Drake asked
again and eyed the big biped-robot.
"It is more complicated than you think..." Corky said with serious tones "... a cargo that
size cannot just be swept away to the Armory without some damage to Bay II occurring"

Somewhere in the huge craft, a horn blared and Drake estimated that The Yydryl was at
it's correct altitude for the Tumbler to be dropped onto the planet.

Drake tapped the trolley's tray-pan with his titanium wrench and waited for Ship to command
the cleanliness-obsessed Corky to get his metal-ass in gear, the Bay ticked quietly as the
two Droids watched each other.

"The crew is in danger down there and you are concerned with a few scuff-marks and metal
-shavings... Ship is gonna bounce you, Corky" Drake said softly and enjoyed using the words
he'd heard the humanoids use.

The Service-Droid scanned the ceiling of the Delivery Bay and Drake could see the big robot
calculating the odds of winning a debate against Ship, the clasping and unclasping of his
gold-painted fingers told the Repair-Droid that the construction of Tumbler III wasn't too far
off.

Then two red-rotating lights near the conveyer-belt came on and flashed blood tones across
the steel-grey walls of Bay II and Drake put his caterpillar-tracked wheels close to the trolley
and prepared to follow the casks, the assembly of the vehicle would take around one hour
and Corky's delay hadn't helped.

"Please be careful" Corky muttered and watched the crates rumble over the smooth metal
roller-bars and rubber belts, Console had two monitors on the action also.
Drake shook his painfully-thin head and trundled his equipment down to the corridor for
the Armory "is that oil?" he snickered over his shoulder and heard the loud clatter of Corky's
metal-feet as the Droid sped off to look for an imaginary stain.



The Automated-Assembly Plant did the heavy work and built the Tumbler's chassis, crates
holding new components followed the moving belt and swift robotic arms plucked the
parts from the foam-lined containers.

Thirty-minutes of Earth-time later, the hulking craft stood in the Armory and Drake set about
with the task of installing computer-sections and the latest artificial-intelligence.
With his deep-treaded tracks sticking out from under the cockpit, Drake busied himself with
red and blue wires, the maze of colour was wonderous.

"You dented the conveyer-doors" Corky snapped and peered into the Tumbler's doorway, the
scene infront of him was a mess. Drake sighed and quickly estimated the amount of time left,
The Gyro-Correctors still needed installing and four Gen-Chips were fluctuating for some
reason.

"I did no-such thing... whatever happened in your Sector is YOUR problem" Drake growled
and clicked the Sensor-casing on with a grunt. Corky climbed aboard and swiped a bunch of
cables out of the way, he hated mess. "If you hadn't rushed me -then the crates would have
been disposed of properly" he hissed and ducked under a hanging Trembler.

"Disposed...? I think you mean 'delivered' don't you?" Drake sneered and pulled his shiny
cylindrical torso from under the driving-console, sorting The Tumbler's limb-controls was
going to give him a headache -he thought.

(Continued Below)

(Continued From Above)

Corky looked out of place in the cable-dripping compartment and even though the Repair
-Droid didn't usually tolerate time-wasting, he allowed himself a couple of minutes to hear
a fellow-Droid prattle on about cleanliness.

Corky tucked the big bunch of wires near his head back into the panel that they jutted from
and continued with his complaint. "You can't just expect a Delivery Bay to drop everything
and deal with a task -just because it's deemed important by you" Corky said and set his metal
-jaw in way to show he meant business.

Drake scanned the idiot-face of the Service-Droid and smiled pompously "Yes I can... I can
when Ship orders me to do it" he said calmly and replaced the multi-driver with his regular
metal fingers.

Corky looked about the cockpit and shook his head "this is a total mess" he said and hoped
that he had been successful in changing the subject, he picked up a light-pulsing box and
held it out to the grinning Droid.

"Turbo-Balancer..." Drake answered and pointed at the hollow space near Corky's well-oiled
knee "... it goes there" and showed an expression of surprise as Corky inserted the device
and clicked the flat wire-belt into it's connection.

The two Droids never spoke again for twenty-minutes, but they worked as a team getting
everything ready for the Doctor's journey, Adam would be piloting the Tumbler down to the
planet and launch-time was creeping closer.

"Hold this and turn it clock-wise" Drake hissed and bent his body in a 'S'-shape, the Thruster's
control cables seemed to be the wrong parts, the Droid promised himself he would check the
manifest at the first opportunity.

They were both in the Engine-housing, a small room at the rear of the Tumbler where all the
complicated stuff went on -at least, that's what Corky thought about it.
Corky's huge arms lifted the black-rubber tubes and watched the Repair-Droid produce a long
flexible torch from a hatchway in his head and examine the the fittings "there's the problem"
he hissed and jammed a posi-driver into the dark hole where the cables should go.


Adam clambered into Tumbler III and settled into the Pilot seat, he guessed Ship would
operate the flying by remote. Without looking, he swung the Engine-Room door closed.

Corky grunted and lifted the heavy cables higher and if Drake had teeth he would have
grinded them in anger as he forced the tool to bend the coupler to fit.

"Ready when you are" the Doctor said and the craft suddenly lurched along the conveyor-belt
towards Launch Doors, Adam showed a tight smile and a furrowed brow, he wasn't one for
flying and the with the latest quest from Gert, his mind raced with what the future would
hold.

"5-4-3-2... Launch complete, full thrusters in ten seconds" Tumbler III announced in a smooth-
sexy female voice "Welcome aboard Adam" she cooed and lurched from The Yydryl's hull.
The sudden sight of Earth appearing in the front-window made Adam gasp and as the brand-
new Tumbler tumbled, the Doctor snapped the safety-harness on quickly "Er, thank you" he
mumbled and hoped the contraption had been assembled correctly.

Corky seemed to dance as his hydraulic feet struggled for purchase, Drake slammed into the
closet holding a mop and bucket and gave out a 'Ugh' as he hit his head, both Droids realised
together what had happened.

When positron-computers were first installed into regular Droids, Professor Tervitt -the
reknown Master of Technology, assured the Military and the Corporations that had shown
interested in investing in the multi-tasked machines, that a decorum and high-moral
discipline would be shown at all times.

The Service-Droid looked at the Repair-Droid with the mop-wig on his head and together
both metal-men said "OH SH*T!"

Nenothtu had found his boots and dressed himself, and in a fit of pique had killed Taggart's anacondas and eaten part of one, cooked over an oil lamp. It had tasted more of kerosene than snake, but hell, he'd eaten worse things. Thus refreshed, his next order of business was to get out into the world again, find Taggart and kill him.

He wouldn't eat Taggart, though - to be honest, he was pretty sure that he'd never eaten worse than that, and wasn't about to start now.

He went to the door to leave, only to find that Margot had locked him in - for his own safety, no doubt - but had neglected to leave a key. He was pretty sure that had been by design. It really didn't matter, though. He had his Vandalian Master Key handy, which he carried with him at all times. It was size 9 1/2 and lived at the end of his leg. He kicked the door dead center like a mule. The door bowed outwards just enough for the lock to pop out of the socket and flew open. The glass in the window of the door didn't fare as well. Evidently it wasn't as bendy as the door, and shattered outward onto the landing as the door flew open and off of it's hinges, ripped from the door jambs as the stops to keep it from swinging too far outward splintered.

Neno reasoned that since every one knew he was dead, there was no real reason to sneak. Just seeing him walking ought to give them pause for thought. He had no fears of drawing attention to himself, banking on the idea that drawing attention would install some fear in his adversaries instead. Walking to the center of the compound, he raised his head to the sky and screamed as loud as he could muster "WHERE IS MY CAT? TAGGART, I'M COMING FOR YOU!". He seemed a bit miffed that it appeared he drew no attention at all with that display. As the echoes faded away, the compound remained quiet. Nenothtu expected that Sslar had hung out nearby waiting for the fight, as he'd instructed her. he had no idea that she and Ben had taken off with his horse and all of his stuff that had been packed up on it.

150 miles or so eastward, however, Sslar perked her ears westward, as if she had heard, which of course she could not have. The mental link neno emanated outward to Sslar far outweighed the sound of his voice. Sslar picked up on that, perked her ears as if it were an actual sound, and took off westward at a dead run. She had 150 miles to cover. On the way, she found the sword where it had fallen, and detected it was the Caliburn, neno's sword, by scent. Sslar snatched the sword up in her mouth and kept on going without breaking stride.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, neno stalked the compound looking for Taggart. Along a row of cabins with heavy shutters - he took them to be some sort of cells, but without quite the security of the one Taggart had killed him in - he saw a sliver of light poking out through the shutters of one of the cabins. Since he saw no other light anywhere, he made a beeline for that cabin.

He went at a trot, now completely refreshed from his recent demise, and pondered the apparent increase in the acceleration of healing that accompanied immortality as he trotted along.

....................~~Deeper Into the Unknown~~....................

Ben and Dag rode along in silence; the moon had set and the stars provided their only light. Dag could see well enough -- those eyes of hers were one of her own favorite features -- but Ben had not been in the same line as she when visual sensory organs were distributed.

When Sslar suddenly spun round and sped away back to the west, the gelding Ben rode, which had dumped Brittle and bravely tucked its tail and run home before, attempted to do so again.

Ben sighed as he overrode the horse's panicky urge to follow the big green cat that had dispatched the copperhead the afternoon before. The beast did not want to be without Sslar's guidance now. Had Brittle been astride this time, he'd have been dumped again, only more quickly (since now the horse had learned exactly which motion would eject that particular rider). But Ben was born a horseman, and his mount didn't have a chance against this rider. There was no question who was in charge.

He gathered the reins of the hackamore in a couple of centimeters and tweaked them several times in rapid succession. Relaxing deep in the saddle, he cooed, "Easy there, big fella, yer fine...jess fine..whatever yer name is," he said. He'd heard Cain call it something or other, but hadn't paid it much heed.

"Stupid cat," muttered Ben as he watched Sslar vanish; the horse nickered lowly in protest. Ben patted its withers, focusing on his hand lending the horse the extra bit of nerve it needed.

Ahead of them (well, behind them, because now Ben and the horse were facing westward), Dag's mare swiveled her ears back and stopped to wait for their companions. Dag turned in her saddle. "Oh for crying out loud," she said quietly, and sighed heavily.

Ben turned the gelding then and said, "Walk," and the request was immediately honored. Ben shook his head as he drew closer to Dag. "Ah tell ya, lil lady, these here folks jest ain't made the dent I'd've figured 'em to in all them centuries; shouldn't be no horses feelin' like their riders is gunna git 'em into trouble."

He looked back over his shoulder once more as they proceeded eastward. "Neno's got one helluva connect with that 'un,' I tell ya."

Dag asked, "Where do you think she went?"

Ben jerked his head toward the way they'd come, "Back 'attaway," he said.

"Very funny," said Dag.

"Well, ain't much point in guessin', is there? How should I know? She went thataway in a big rush, that's all ah know, but ain't no never mind to us, now is it? She's a big girl, 'tain't fer us to worry on her, we got a much bigger problem up there ahead of us."

Dag then noticed the sky had lightened from pitch back to a deep purple. "Sun'll be up in another hour," she remarked.

"Good," said Ben. "That's the one thing I's relyin' on the green kitty fer, was night-time eyes."

"Oh, I've got that covered, Ben, and so do the horses, but you know that," she said.

"Yes'm," he said, "I shorely do. What I don't know is the names o' these here critters, ain't never been so great with names."

"I believe they are called Ricky and Lucy," said Dag, "though I've no idea why."

Ben laughed out loud.

"What," asked Dag, "why's that funny?"

Ben said, "Aw, nuthin. Jest when we catch up with yer boyfriend there, and yer other boyfriend, I think yer gonna have some splainin' to dooo!" And he laughed again, and snorted.

"Really," asked Dag, "and that amuses you... why?"

"Aw, no, lil lady, now don't be going all womany about it, 'taint nuthin' but an ancient bunch o' silly mixed up stories. I ain't laughin' atcher problem, just some memories. Never mind. I'm sure things'll work out they way they's meant to," Ben assured her.

"How very reassuring," said Dag, and she frowned to herself as the horses continued to walk further under the lightening eastward sky. "Wait, you said when we catch up to my boyfriend, and my other boyfriend?"

"Yep," said Ben.

"Are you talking about Adam?"

Ben nodded once.

"How do you know he's .... what are you talking about? Do you know where he is?"

"Oh, I cain't be certain one hunnerd percent, but... I just seen what looks like a robot type arrangement fallin' from the sky up ahead," he said. "You musta been lookin' t'other way. But that's okay, four eyes is better 'n' two." He paused. "Lessin a'course ya got such bad eyes ya gotta wear them big coke-bottle lenses, you know, what all the kids make fun of...mmm hm, 'n' they call ya 'hey foureyes! hey dummy!'... Kinda like your buddy Tibbs. Well, he ain't no dummy, now, that ain't what I meant...jest the thick glasses thing...Yeah, I hadda wear them dam embarrassin' thangs when I's a kid..but hey, my ma useda warn me they'd stick like that if I kep it up, and by golly if she weren't right!"

Ben slapped his thigh and laughed, then sighed.

Dag simply continued frowning, concerned about Adam. And Brittle. Or rather: Adam and Brittle. A face-off.
"Uh oh," she muttered under her breath. And it was not only the face-off that bothered her, but if Adam had come for her, was he safe?

............................................~Come Fly With Me~...................................................

"Is this normal?" Adam shouted above the screech of straining bio-metal and the roaring of
flames from outside, Tumbler III giggled in a shy-girly laugh and announced "why Adam, I
had no idea you'd be afraid" Panel covers slid across the cockpit floor and the steady
dull thud of objects being thrown around could be heard in the Engine Room at the rear.

"My source-name is Cecilia, I will respond to that if you wish?" the sexy-voice said and
Adam jumped as something howled off the outer-hull.
"Er... thank you Cecilia, are we going to crash?" the Doctor called and searched the main
console for any indication of retro-jets, lights flashed and dials ticked alarmingly.
Tumbler III fell through the upper-cloud cover and the foil parachute detached itself at
the correct altitude, the yellow-craft levelled itself and the thrusters kicked-in.
Adam blew out a breath of relief and sagged back into the Pilot seat.

"This is all your fault..." Drake hissed and picked himself from the Engine Room floor
"...you should've stayed in the Delivery Bay" Corky struggled to shake the tin-bucket from
his foot and failed miserably, the Service-Droid said nothing and wiped the floor-soap
from his face with his trusty cleaning rag.

The two Droids felt the Tumbler settle into it's flight-plan and Drake said a small prayer
to the great Automaton-in-the-sky for small miracles.

"Where is she programmed to go?" Corky whispered and tried the Engine Room door-handle
again, but nothing budged. "Warped" Drake stated and Corky whispered as he turned away
from Repair-Droid "like someone I know" Cecilia giggled through the speaker and banked
towards the West, the Tumbler's huge mechanical arms stretched out like wings and her legs
tucked underneath her base "neeeeooowww!" Cecilia screamed and giggled again, causing
Adam to tighten the safety harness and roll his eyes.

Drake recalled Ship's instructions to the Repair-Droid as he prepared the personality-chip
and answered the big gold-painted robot with " to rendezvous with Tumbler I and II -to
continue the search for the missing crew"

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" the wide-eyed Doctor asked and nibbled his
bottom-lip, he had lifted his fingers to his lips and forced himself not top bite his nails.
The clouds had gone and the heavily-wooded hills appeared in the windscreen, far off,
Adam could see a desert-like area shimmering in the midday sun.

"I have to 'hook-up' with T I and T II... Ship has ceased communication with them until
they get their act together" Cecilia said with a frowning tone, it seemed the 'Gals' didn't
like the squabbling.

Drake pulled the Key-Gun from a compartment in his tool-box and clambered over the
dislodged spare-parts, a first-aid kit and Corky, the door snapped open seconds later.
The humanoid and the two Droids stared at each other in silence.

"What on Earth are..." Adam began and Cecilia interupted with " we're not on Earth yet"
Corky held his metal claws up in a defensive gesture and stepped a gas-wheezing leg into
the Cockpit "I apologise Sir... the Launch caught us unaware and we were unable to leave
Tumbler II, I hope we haven't ruined any plans?" he said with a kind tone.

The Doctor -who had been through some of the most weird of events recently, sighed and
turned back to the front window, the tree-tops were close now.

"I am picking up T I and T II's tracking signal, Adam... prepare for landing please" the sultry
voice of Tumbler III flowed from the overhead speakers and the three males stared at the
thin grill-work where the voice emanated from.

Corky nudged Drake and whispered "nice work -my friend" and drew a resigned sigh from
the Head Repair-Driod.

Tumbler III... or Cecilia to her friends, touched down thirty-feet from the stealth-activated
Tumblers and signaled with a professional "Howdy boys" and received two wolf-whistles
in response.

"Oh Jenovah... give me a break" Adam muttered and pressed the Door-Realease button.

~~Landing Gear~~

As Adam wrestled to get the door open, a song came into his head....and then he heard it resonating through the forest.

And he smiled.

He retained every word, rhythm, note, and beat, and fully intended to sing it to Dag....
but how would he change her name to rhyme?

As close as he'd been to regaining his confidence, there it went...slipping by again...
if he sang it word for word, Dag would think....
Oh BOTHER! thought Adam as he stepped out onto Earth once again.

Mirror, Mirror

As nenothtu approached the cabin, two figures stepped out on either side of the doorway to block it. neno prepared himself for a tussle and pressed forward. Nearing the figures, neno halted, then took a step back. This couldn't be. Looking from one to the other, neno was looking at himself, in stereo.

First Margo posing as Margot, now this. There was no two ways about it, neno had stumbled into a clone factory. That was the only explanation that came to mind - someone here was making carbon copies of people, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why they were mass producing people he had known. In the shadow of a large oak tree himself, he was sure the other nenos had not identified him yet. "Now fellas" he began as he eased towards them, "I know both of y'all about as well as I know myself, and if we tie into it right here, folks are gonna die right here..." between the sound of his voice and the step that carried him into the moonlight, the other nenos finally recognized him, but they didn't have the reaction he'd expected.

The one on the left suddenly detached itself from the porch and hurled itself towards him. Bracing himself and preparing to turn the other himself inside out as soon as he was within arm's reach of himself, he briefly wondered if it might not go the other way around this time. "This is gonna get interesting" he mumbled.

He started to yell "Kali on a sweet roll! You of all people oughtta know better than this!" but instead was interrupted by the other him yelling "NENO!" in a strangely familiar voice that was not his, just before he was engulfed by himself and both tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

It was only when the real neno untangled, sprang up, and prepared to counter attack that Chumley realized his mistake - that he was in disguise, and in particular a disguise that would cause the utmost of confusion to the real neno. "Noooo neno! We not fight! Save fight for others. Chumley just glad you here s'all!"

"Chumley?" neno looked confused, but recognized the voice. "Why are you me?"

"Ship give handy-dandy disguise suits to Chumley. Nobody know Chumley not from around here this way."

"Uh huh. Looks like she would have picked a less confusing disguise, but maybe I'm the only human she had in stock at the moment. Who's my other twin over there?" neno asked, hooking a thumb over his shoulder towards the cabin.

"That Carpet" Chumley answered smugly and continued with "Silo sure be glad to see you. There's a heap o' trouble here, boy." Chumley had an expression on neno's face that plainly said he was insufferably pleased with his command of the colloquialisms.

Neno couldn't help himself. He snorted a laugh and said "Chumley, you're new around here. You've got the vernacular, but here's a tip - you call a grown man 'boy' in these parts, and someone's gonna eventually have a serious conversation with ya about that."

Chumley-neno looked chagrined, and neno added "It ain't a biggie - you prolly just got that out of the archives, but be mindful of it talkin' to others here. Now where's Silo?"

"She's in here". The voice came from behind nenothtu, from the now open doorway of the cabin, where now stood Margo spinning her hand to usher him inside in a hurry. "better get in here before anyone sees you."

Nenothtu snorted again. "Ain't nobody out here TO see me. I've been hunting fer someone to pick a fight with, and nary a soul has stepped out so far. 'Sides, if you think I'm gonna hide from any of these pissants, you don't know me as well as you ought to, Margot."

Exasperated, Margo said "I'm Margo, not 'Margot'. I don't know who Margot is. Are you coming in here, or what?"

Neno set his feet, and said "I ain't budging until I get some answers. I come rolling in here to find two more copies of myself, and a copy of my dead wife, and I wanna know jus' what the hell goes on here afore I get down to business. Clone factories give me the jitters, and are prone to turn me all homicidal."

"C... clone factories?" Margo stuttered. "There are no clones here. Your dead what? I think you and I need to have a word in private, mister. We need to straighten some things out... before you 'go all homicidal'."

"You know damned well what I mean, Mar... Margo. You're a 'dead ringer', no pun intended, for my dearly departed missus, and that can't be no mistake. You're gorram right we need to have a word in private. Shall we take a walk?" and neno offered her his arm. She took it and they strolled off into the moonlight away from the cabins, looking for all the world like the two civilized people they were most certainly not.

Margo's Tale

As they strolled along arm in arm on their moonlight walk, Margo was the first to break silence. "So this living-impaired former spouse of yours - I take it her name was Margot?"

"It is." neno replied. The difference in tense was not lost on Margo.

"Was she by any chance from Dorval?"

Nenothtu stared at Margo for a second, and replied. "She was, but I met her on a colony world under settlement - Travis' Rift. Now how is it you would know her planet of origin, but weren't even sure of her name?"

Instead of answering directly, Margo replied with "Tell me about her."

"Not much to tell, really" neno responded. "We met, staked out a homestead, had a son, and she died while I was shipwrecked on Khalamzadar. She was meaner than a copperhead, but that was pretty much a requirement on a colony world under settlement. Takes a certain kind to hack out a life in places like that, and they don't back up very well." He paused to look at Margo, and added "you already probably know most everything else about her, being a carbon copy and all."

"So I have a son." Margo mused, an absent-minded but apparent statement of fact.

"See what I mean? You're just like Margot, always trying to confuse and confound me. It's more than just your appearance, you act like her. You've just spent a lot of effort correcting me and stressing that you ain't 'Margot', and now you up and say something like that, as if you are. Now, I know for fact you ain't, 'cause she is most certainly stone dead - I've seen the grave myself - and the only time I ever see her any more is in the aether, which is a place where I ain't at the moment, ergo you ain't her, as you have stressed, yet here you are acting like her and claiming her kids. Now what the hell is UP with that?"

Margo sighed, and said "I'm not exactly what or who I appear to be. Let me tell you a story. A long time ago, and a long way from here, a rich man had a rich bride. These people were humans - Earth humans - but were not from Earth. Long before that, their ancestors had been, but they had been ... removed ... from Earth and taken elsewhere by an older race. I suppose the object was to insure the survival of humans, in case something happened to the Earth, but that's not really central to the story."

"Any way, these rich folks were obsessed with immortality, and immortality of a sort was promised by technology. They were wealthy enough to afford it, and had themselves implanted into biomechanical bodies that were self-repairing - up to a point - and could theoretically live forever." Here she paused, and looking at neno finally stated "I was that bride. I am a cyborg now, something that passes for human, but is less than that - or perhaps more. it's a matter of perspective, I suppose. I am very old - you can't tell by looking - and I'm not from around here. I was marooned in the Badlands... oh, seventy years ago now, I think. None of these people know who or what I am, and that is why I wanted this conversation private. Some of the locals don't take kindly to things they don't understand. This is my story..."



"... When he came to the full realization that I was more machine than human, well, he recoiled, hung back, lost interest in me, sent me away. It didn't matter that he was no better - he was the man with the money. I was just a toy he'd bought and gotten tired of. Now here, in this godforsaken place, I'm still a toy. Just a whore, nothing more, and your Margot was nothing of the sort." She was dry-eyed, almost defiant in the declaration, but nenothtu could tell that making the statement had taken a lot more out of her than she was prepared to admit.

Neno shrugged. "So am I. I make no apology for it, either. We're all whores, one way or another. It's just a matter of what we have for sale, now isn't it? Some folks think that what they have for sale makes them better than you, on account of what you have for sale, but it don't. They're just as mercenary as the lowest of us, which means there really AIN'T no 'lowest' of us - it's only a matter of what they think, and if you don't care what they think, then the matter don't matter at all, now does it?"

"There's a toll to be paid for everything, neno. Some times it costs an arm and a leg - or two " - here she was on the edge of a grin - " but selling your soul and giving up that ghost is a hell of a price, neno. Survival isn't worth that." and the near-grin faded away.

"Yet here you are, surviving." neneothtu responded. "The thing is, and what you've got to get through your head, is that we don't sell our souls, we just rent them. You can revoke yours, take it back, any damned time you please, but YOU have to do it. Can't me or no one else do it for you."

Margo stared at him for a long time, but said nothing. Finally, neno broke the silence by asking "Now, HOW did you know where 'my' Margot originated? How did you know she was from Dorval?"

What Margo said next seemed to take more out of her than her claim to prostitution. "Dorval was that world where the ... taken ... humans were settled on to, millenia ago. It was the secondary homeworld for humanity. Dorval is where I came from, where I was... made. It's where I was turned from human to biological machine, and it's where my DNA was stored those centuries ago in that process. They needed the DNA in the manufacturing process, and copies of it are stored forever." Margo paused and bit her lip before continuing. "Neno, you mentioned 'clones' earlier. I'm not a clone, I'm a cyborg... but 'your' Margot ... was a clone. she was apparently a clone... of me."

Neno's eyes went wide. Margo had a pained expression, but finished out with "At least she was fully human, unlike me. What's more, this means your son is MY son as well... genetically. I never had kids before the implanting, and cyborgs can't bear children. I never knew I had a child, and that's a hell of a thing for a woman to admit."

..................................................~Getting There~................................................

The Time-Wizard and The Witch flew across the early evening sky and as in most cases
of supernatural flight, the duo should have looked professional and as if they were enjoying
it. However, Tibbs didn't care for the mode of travel.

"This is crazy..." the Vithian shouted at the serious-faced Mucklebones, the ancient Gray
had both arms out and was ahead of Tibbs, his flapping and struggling was holding him back.
"... We're not just flying, we're slipping across Time-faces" the small man called and watched
his lover arc her back and slow her flight, Muckles came along side and showed a puzzled
brow.

After Tabaldak had conducted the spell, Mucklebones had clutched Tibbs' hand and advised
him to relax and focus on the flight-plan, Tibbs had wobbled and turned upside-down twice
and now, Muckles thought that her boyfriend had begrudgingly become satisfied with his
bird-like prowess.

"What do yer' mean -my man?" the Crone cawed and waited for Tibbs to move his flapping
beard away from his mouth. " I mean... look down..." he stated and moved his eyes to the
passing ground below, Muckles followed his gaze and saw the winding coast road with the
gaping man beside his car.

A sea-breeze hit the land and surged upwards -causing the two strangest of sky-beings to
rise in the air, Tibbs flapped and shrieked, Muckles took it in her stride.
"Steady Tibbs... steady now" the Gray soothed and watched the small frame buck and bob
in the eddys, a full minute passed before he regained control.

"I saw it earlier..." Tibbs continued and pushed his small round-spectacles back up his nose.
"...I'd swear the Bighorn battle was taking place beneath us and when we had only just begun
this..." Tibbs showed a disgusted face and looked at his arms "... this 'journey' -I noticed two
futuristic craft parked in a deserted air base. These are Time-faces" he stated.

Mucklebones knew nothing of the events that the Vithian was describing, but understood
the idée générale.
The pair spoke no more as the scene below blurred and heavy woodland came into view, Tibbs
raised his head and spotted the shimmering desert -far off.



........................................................................................

The Monterey County Herald.
5th February 1959.
Odd Sighting For Big Sur Resident.
.... of twenty-years, noticed the strange shapes coming around the headland and slowed
his car to get a better view. Mr. Carpenter watched with his nine year-old son -Mathew, as the
two objects neared the parking-area and later, reported this latest Ufo-sighting via telephone
to The Monterey County Herald.

"It was two people..." James Carpenter said excitingly "...both wearing capes like Superman!"
When pressed for more information, the employee of Burma Shave added: "I would have said
that they were Martians, although it could be something from that Sputnik-rocket"
After the tragic news of Tuesday's aircrash of Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper, Richie Valens and...

............................................................................................

Tibbs wished he could reach for his handset and focus on any information the device may have
picked up, but he imagined himself tumbling with his robes wrapped around his head towards
the heavy foilage below, the idea of showing his undergarments to Muckles was also a factor.

"Come on -me canny sex-pot... let's get t' yer' friends" Mucklebones shrieked in the exact
manner that James Carpenter had to the doubtful Reporter on the other end of the telephone
-so many-many years before.

The green poncho-wrapped With shot ahead with her mottled chin cutting the air, the
reluctant Vithian smiled weakly and attempted to follow his reckless love-of-his-life.

~*~ Daughters Revenge ~*~

‘Put the gun down Joe!’ Margo laughed and took a step smack in front Neno directly into the line of fire. Her heroics set his teeth on edge but Margo seemed to know who she was talking to and there were six more shadows coming at them from behind and the sides. Backing into Neno Margo gave a little hysterical laugh and tried again at cajoling. ‘Joe, you’re such a goose! That thing goes off you’ll wet your knickers. Now put it down! You don’t even know how to use those things!’ Margo gave a wave of her hand and took a step forward her hand outstretched.

Clearly the leader ‘Joe’ took a step out into the torch light it‘s soft glow doing nothing to soften ‘his’ features and waving the gun like a reed in the wind Neno and Margo both sucked in their breath and ducked.

‘Like you’d know you filthy whore! I been practicing!‘ The gun steadied in a accomplished grip, the hammer cocked surely and Neno’s hat went flying off into the dirt sporting a new hole smack in it’s center.

‘What the hell?’ Neno barked wondering if the bullet had parted hair but kept his hands in the air. They’d walked into an ambush, Margot was acting foolishly bulletproof and now someone shot his hat. Neno was getting pissed.

The lean tall man pointing the pistol their way gave a chuckled, brought the tip of the gun to his mouth and blew. Neno’s eyes narrowed looking closer. He’d only seen corny moves like that from kids playing cowboys an injuns but this cowboy sure wasn‘t a kid or a boy if the unmistakable outline of bosom meant anything. And Neno knew bosoms. The gunman was a woman.

‘So, you two killed our Pa but ya don’t even stop in to give your condolences before takin’ a midnight spoon huh?’ A woman maybe but the snarl in her voice could have belonged to an angry man, so could the 5’oclock shadow bristling along her upper lip.

‘Look Josephine, we didn‘t...’ Margo started before a rough hand pushed her from behind causing her teeth to clack together from the unexpected shove.

Spinning in place, hands still in the air Neno nearly spit. Pack mentality, he thought. The others were closing in and getting physical. Not good.

‘You shut yor puckered trap Margo! You ain’t nuthin’ but a whore.’ ‘Joe’ moved in close enough for Neno to smell the sickly sour stench of a drunk gone bad. And a drunk with a gun was like mixing dynamite and matches, you never knew when one or the other’d go off. Still, he didn’t cotton to anyone calling Margot a whore. Truth or no he promised he’d try make it up to her later somehow.

‘You gonna introduce us to yer new man Margo?’ A female shrilled from behind while what Neno hoped was a pair of feminine fingers tried to pinch a peck of skin on his backside. The voice gave a high pitched giggle that grated on his nerves more than her groping fingers.

‘He’s not my man Joe, he‘s nothing but a drifter who...’ Before she could finish Margo went sprawling in the dirt shoved from behind. Josephine closed in quickly, aimed, and shot her foot out fast as a snake catching Margo in the side. Neno heard bones crack but he didn’t try to stop the attack. He figured these women - like any other riled up pack a animals - would go for the weakling. He’d rather let Margot take a blow or two before going to her defense and getting her shot. Fleetingly he hoped Margot would forgive him later.

He was right. When Neno didn‘t move to help Margo Josephine stopped her attack. ‘So, she ain’t nothing but dirt to you either Mister?’ Josephine smiled her mouth full of moon yellow squares. Neno shrugged and chuckled his teeth glistening a feral white. When Neno laughed a pained look stamped crows feet at the corners of Margo’s eyes that had nothing to do with her ribs.

‘Please Josephine mam,’ Neno started lowering his arms, ‘I dunno what’s between you two ladies...’ Neno’s hands shot back into the air when Josephine turned on him in a flash screeching from behind the pistol aimed at his head.

‘She aint no Lady!’ Josephine kicked Margo again.

Pressing down air with his palms spread wide Neno stood corrected and slowly lowered his hands as the flushed woman followed his lead and lowered the gun. ‘Sorry Mam, my momma would strop me rare if I called any lady a...’ Margo moaned and rolled up tighter to protect herself. Back went the gun to his head and up went his hands leaving Neno blinking owlishly for a moment. What had he said now?

‘Don’t you talk to me about Mommas Mister!’ Josephine snarled, the scrape of boot leather on dirt told him the others were closing in. ’This whore‘s the reason our Momma aint here! She took our Momma’s place. Our Momma’s! And she aint nuthin’ but a dirty whore!’ The sob punctuating the end of her rant was like a whistle to the pack. The others were on Margo in a flash tearing her clothes and hair shrieking kicking and biting. Neno’s gaze didn’t waver from Josephine's gun aiming a bulls eye for his forehead watching the black hole of the barrel tip grow larger and larger, a yawning chasm.

Just before Neno heard the shot he laughed to himself. He’d a never thought it’d be a girl who needed a shave that’s be the one to send him to perdition.

The shot split the air didn't drop Neno to the ground leaving his boots tapping a death notice in the dirt, it was Josephine, the ragged meathole where her face should have been leaking blue black blood into the sand. Her sisters screamed and ran back to the shadows leaving Margo, Neno and the cadaver alone there in front of the saloon.

‘Neno!’ Taggart called down from an upper window. ‘I thought you was deadsome son!‘ Taggart racked another round into the 30/30.

Neno dove, covered Margo with Josephine's body, rolled behind the horse trough for cover and was on his feet and through the double doors of the saloon before the echo of Taggart’s laugh faded into the night.

................................................~Alls Fair In Love And War~...........................................

Death's room swirled with the colour of anger as Pandora moved back and forth infront of
the great doors, The Grim Reaper -himself, glanced up from his musings in The Book from
time-to-time and watched the beauty's rage manifest itself.

"He tricked me..." Pandora hissed "... he promised to deliver the Sword and then went back
on his word, the freak has no honour!" The words fired from her gorgeous mouth were like
venom-tipped bullets in the gloomy atmosphere.

Death turned back to the Tome Of The Dead and traced the names on the ancient pages with
a bone-thin finger "He saw through your plan, my Dear... the lad is smarter than you think" he
muttered and checked the previous page for any return of Nenothtu's name.

Pandora stopped her march and stared at the robe-shrouded back of her lover, sometimes he
could be a complete asshole -she thought. "He had no idea..." Pandora said confidently "the
fool is more concerned on how he looks that what happens around him" The advisor of
Jenovah flicked her hair back in pompous manner.

"You failed to send him back to his friends and in BIAD's book, you went back on your word
also..." Death dared and kept his face hidden, Neno's name wasn't there and this give The
Soul Collector a feeling of relief "...One cancelled out the other" he continued and felt
Charon's presence nearing his abode.

"Our visitor may have the answer to your dilemma" Death announced and turned to face
Pandora, the air around the wonderous deity seemed to crackle and spark.
"Your brother is going to pay for his prank... mark my words" Pandora growled and offered
fire-coated eyes to her tall deadly-boyfriend, Death's passing made the air grow cold around
her as he made his way to the doors.



"Charon..." Death said loudly and with much cheer "...what can I do for the Ferryman of
reknown?" and creaked the tall doors open. The flames roared behind the Being with
the barge pole and seemed to rival Pandora's rage. Charon's gaunt-features showed nothing
of what he was thinking as he stepped into the shadowed room.

"It seems recent events seem to indicate that the Yydryl's crew have the ability to out-wit
the great Grim Reaper and the notorious Pandora... but there are other parties that have
concerns" Charon said broodily and leaned the stout staff against the door frame.

Death swung his cowl-covered head towards the female with hands on her perfect hips and
indicated a confusion, Pandora furrowed her brow also.
"What other parties?" she said and strutted towards the large ornate box in the corner,
Charon tracked the beauty and waited until she was sitting on the lid of the famed 'box'
with her bare-legs dangling near the gold-wrapped lock, before he continued.

"Due to bringing other deities into the situation, Tabaldak and a few of his cohorts have
approached me to seek the opportunity to step into a reality... it has become quite
disconcerting"

Pandora looked to the stone-slabbed floor and breathed heavily through her nostrils,
Death glided back to the lecturn and his precious Book, both deep in thought.

The Boatman of the Styx waited in the heavy atmosphere for a few seconds before bringing
his plan to the fore, he felt it was time for a more practical and less-devious way of getting
that damned sword into their hands.

(Continued From Above)

"After deliberation... and after consulting the Spirits that wish to join us, I have a course of
action that should bring the players in our struggling endeavours to willingly donate the
Caliburn to our company, But it will need some sacrifice from yourselves" Charon said in
low-serious tones and glanced at the female's velvet-smooth limbs.

Pandora snapped her head up from her musings and showed eyes of thunderheads to the
tall gaunt Ferryman "What sort of sacrifices" she whispered.

The hues of the walls swept the gloom away and the sudden voice of Charles Aznavour
belting out 'Thank Heavens for Little Girls' alongside the pastel-colours brought a surreal
-feel to Death's Library.

"The plan is quite simple -really..." Charon chirped and reached for his trusty oar, time was
no friend of his and he had passengers to ferry "...Pandora must go to Hobbs End and capture
Nenothtu's heart, she must seduce our 'difficult' friend" and with the loud creaking of the
flame-licked doors, he tossed his last words over his bony-shoulder.

"Remember... love is the drug" the gaunt figure said and went to his duties.

.............................................................

"You want me to wear this?" Pandora roared and looked to the saddle-tramp with the wide
toothless-grin, Death nodded, his floppy hat copying the move.
With a slight melodic hum to the tune from earlier, he adjusted the Wells Fargo bag on his
shoulder.
"You'll look great and I'll wager the Neo will find it alluring" the Stumpy-character from the movie
'Rio Bravo' said amiably and giggled the giggle that the actor Walter Brennan was known for.

The Western-style clothing lay across Pandora's Box and even though the thong-rimmed stetson
had caught her attention, the predominantly-male attire looked like it had seen better days.
Death limped off towards the stone lecturn and pondered whether Nenothtu would fall for the raven
-haired beauty, Death smiled to himself as he mused the Vandal's future.

The cowboy boots with the three playing-cards embroidered on their fronts, waited at the
foor of the glittering crate and Pandora was sure she could smell horse manure drifting up
from them.

The almost-naked Pandora scowled and hissed "Your brother will pay for all of this" picking up
the deer-skin shirt, she began to dress.